


The Difference a Day Makes

by Jadeys_World, snarkymuch



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Awesome May Parker (Spider-Man), Blame WebMD, Bucket List, Caretaking, Comic Book Science, Coming to Terms With A Disability, Derogatory language about disability by a disabled character, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hand wavy science, Happy Ending, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, James "Rhodey" Rhodes is a Good Bro, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Tony Stark Coparenting Peter Parker, Medical Doctor Bruce Banner, No Character Death, Paralysis, Peter Parker Has Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Protective May Parker (Spider-Man), Protective Tony Stark, Supportive Tony Stark, Terminal Illnesses, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Has Panic Attacks, We Are Not Doctors, Wheelchairs, Whump, end of life care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-02-23 13:35:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 97,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23578963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadeys_World/pseuds/Jadeys_World, https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkymuch/pseuds/snarkymuch
Summary: Peter thought he'd hit rock bottom, but maybe it needed to happen so he could find himself again. This is a story of making peace, of trusting those around you, and holding onto threads of hope. The sun will always shine again, even after the darkest of nights and hardest of storms. With Tony beside him, he might just make it through to morning.-or-Peter loses his powers, gets seriously injured, comes to terms to with his new normal, but then things take a turn and he's facing death. There are bucket lists and declining health until a cure is found, giving him his powers back. Lots of whump and irondad moments.
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker & Tony Stark, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 626
Kudos: 436
Collections: Best Tony and Peter





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys. This story is complete, and will be updated twice a week. This is Clowns_or_midgets first time in the fandom, so I hope you guys welcome her with open arms.

The window creaked in protest when Peter shimmied it open. It was late, and he was tired and sore. His patrol had started quiet, but Karen had tipped him off about an ATM robbery before heading in. It wasn’t that big of a deal, but it was still a workout, and he ended up taking a few hits from a bat before webbing the guy up. 

He stripped off his suit and grabbed some sweats, heading to the shower to wash away some of the sweat that clung to him. The hot water would feel good on his tired muscles. When he slipped to the bathroom, he heard the TV in the living room. May was still up. He called out to her, letting her know he was home. She always worried about his spider-manning. 

“Okay, hon,” she called back. “I’m gonna head to bed. Don’t forget to set the alarm. You can’t be late again.” 

“I’ll be up, promise.” 

He shut the bathroom door and started the shower, catching himself in the mirror. Purple bruises still marred his chest and shoulder from days ago. They blended in with the new ones that were blooming on his side. He carefully touched the reddened area, face twitching at the pain. They were going to hurt tomorrow. He wished Tylenol still worked for him. 

Grumbling, he stepped out of his boxers and into the shower. Letting the hot water wash away some of his stress. He was going to need to be more careful. 

* * *

Tony checked the time. The kid should be there anytime. After the disastrous events of homecoming, Tony had stepped up his taking care of Peter. They didn’t just share lab time, but they also trained together on weekends. It wasn’t safe for Peter to be out there fighting crime without any training—not that Tony was skilled in hand to hand, but he knew a thing or two. 

When Peter got to the gym in the tower—the tower that Tony decided not to sell—Tony was ready to go. He was in his tracksuit, bouncing on his toes. Peter greeted him with a wave, dropping his bag by the wall. “Hey, Mr. Stark.” 

“Hey, kid, go get changed up. I wanna see if I can beat that Peter Tingle of yours.” 

Peter’s head snapped up, his face going red. “That’s not—it’s not my Peter Tingle.” 

Tony laughed. “That’s not what Aunt Hottie says.” 

Peter groaned, making Tony laugh harder. “Don’t sweat it. We could call it your arachnid awareness instead.” 

“Please, no.” 

Tony did some light stretching while he waited for Peter. He was getting too old not to. A few minutes later, Peter came out of the locker room in his suit, minus the mask, which he held in his hand. 

“Ready to be schooled?” Tony asked, walking with Peter to the center of the mats. 

Peter smiled. “Bring it, old man.” The kid tugged on his mask and took a defensive position. 

Tony activated his suit, letting the suit spread out over him. He didn’t give Peter time to think. He just went straight for him. Peter dodged and easily deflected his attacks. Tony stepped it up, moving faster and with more force. Peter seemed to be struggling. Tony threw out his fist, thinking Peter would dodge right, but instead, the kid didn’t see it coming. The blow landed squarely on his nose. Thankfully, he was able to pull the punch in time and avoid crunching bone. 

Peter put up a hand. “Time—time. I need a minute.” He pulled his mask off, smearing blood across his face. His nose was bleeding—and bleeding bad. 

Tony stood frozen for a moment, but he snapped himself out of it, tapping his housing unit and making the suit retreat. With his suit gone, he moved to Peter’s side, hand hovering in front of him. 

“I’ll get a towel. Just keep your head—keep it tipped forward. I’ll be right back.” 

Tony bolted to the locker room and grabbed a towel, rushing back to Peter's side. The kid’s nose was still gushing, blood dripping on the mats. He hadn’t even hit the kid that hard. He’d seen Peter take harder hits on patrol and be fine. He lifted the towel to his nose, holding it in place. Peter raised his gaze to look at him. Tony could see the embarrassment in the kid’s eyes. 

Forcing a smile, Tony tried to lighten the mood. “You got an ouchie, Pete?” 

Peter rolled his eyes. “No, I just took a meat tenderizer to the face. I’ll be fine.” 

“Seriously, kid, I’ve seen you take harder hits than that and shrug them off, but you’re—hell, I could have broken your nose.” Tony lifted the towel, taking a peek at his nose. It was still bleeding freely, so he pressed it back down. He couldn’t help the pang of guilt that twisted his stomach. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt the kid. 

“I don’t know what happened. I didn’t feel it coming.” Peter shrugged. “It’ll stop bleeding soon.” 

“Yeah, probably will, but I don’t understand why it’s bleeding at all.” 

Peter's gaze dropped, and he shifted his weight between his feet. “I guess you punch harder than I thought. It’s actually impressive for an old man.” 

Tony watched the way Peter’s shoulders had turned in and wouldn’t make eye contact. Something was up, and Tony was going to figure out what. “What’s going on?” 

Peter chanced a look at him, big eyes blinking. “Nothing—really.” 

“I call bullshit. You can tell me what’s going on, or I’ll get Bruce here to set your nose and give you a Hello Kitty band-aid. What would MJ think of that?” 

A line formed between Peter’s brows. Tony couldn’t see it through the towel, but he was pretty sure Peter was frowning. “She’d probably love it, but yeah, it’s really nothing. I guess I’m not healing as quick these days.” He ducked his head, shrugging a shoulder. “It’s not a big deal. Don’t freak out, but—” Peter lifted his shirt, exposing an expanse of multicolored bruises. 

Tony pulled back, studying the marks. There were so many—all in varying degrees of healing. The one on his side looked fresh. Tony had seen Peter plenty of times after an injury, but he’d never looked like this. “What the hell happened to you? Did you get hit by a truck on your way over?” 

“No, these are just what I picked up this week patrolling.” 

Tony blinked a few times, trying to wrap his mind around it. There wasn’t a good explanation for why he wouldn’t be healing. With the evidence in front of him, it wasn’t something he could ignore. They needed to figure out what was going on. Tony’s brain nearly seized when he realized how badly he could have hurt the kid. If he wasn’t on his game, if he wasn’t healing, their sparring match could have turned out a lot worse than a busted nose. 

Peter shifted again, and Tony saw that the kid was close to losing it. Anxiety was rolling off him in waves. With his free hand, Tony cupped the back of Peter’s neck and gave it a gentle squeeze, hoping it reassured him, though Tony needed reassurance himself. “Maybe it’s the flu or something, slowing down the healing.” 

Peter shrugged. “Maybe.” 

He didn’t sound convinced, and Tony couldn’t blame him. This was a concerning development. 

Tony nudged Peter, reaching up and helping him lift the towel. The bleeding had stopped. 

“Thank god, it was starting to look like the set of Carrie.” 

Peter tried to sniffle, but it just made a wet noise. “I’m gonna go clean up.” 

“It can wait. It’s not that bad.” 

“It looks like I faceplanted in a bowl of tomato soup. I’m cleaning up.” 

Peter disappeared into the locker room, and Tony watched him go. It was clear that Peter wasn’t comfortable talking about it, and Tony couldn’t blame him. If something was wrong with his powers, then it put Spider-Man at risk. Tony didn’t ever want to ground him from the suit again, but he couldn’t have him out there getting hurt either. They needed to figure out what was going on—sooner rather than later. 

Peter came out a few minutes later, his eyes beginning to bruise. The pang of guilt from earlier was now more like a knife twisting in his gut. He cringed when he realized May was going to ask what happened, and more likely than not, she was going to rip him a new one—again. Something he was getting familiar with now. Peter’s aunt had no problem holding back. 

“Training’s over, panda kid. Let’s talk.” 

Peter lifted a brow, a small smile on his lips. “Panda?” 

“I guess you didn’t check the mirror. You look like Po.” 

“You‘ve watched Kung Fu Panda?” Peter asked in disbelief. 

Tony shrugged, tipping his head to the side. “The fact you know Po means you’ve watched it, too.” 

A genuine smile spread across Peter’s face. “Then I guess this makes you Master Shifu.” 

“Not complaining about that. Shifu is the bomb.” Tony patted Peter’s shoulder, guiding him out of the gym. “That’s something you youngsters say, right? Come on. Let’s get a drink.” 

When they got to the penthouse, Peter went to the couch while Tony got them drinks. He took a seat beside Peter, handing him his soda. 

“So, what were you so carefully not telling me earlier?” 

Peter shrugged. 

“No? Maybe you don’t want to tell me. That’s okay. I’ll just ask Aunt Hottie.” 

Peter blanched. “No!” 

“Yeah, didn’t think so. So come on, Spider Baby, spill. What’s going on with you?” 

Peter wrung his hands, keeping his eyes on his lap. “So, it started about a month ago. Bruises started taking longer to heal, only a little longer, so I figured it was nothing, but then they took even longer and—and I don’t feel as strong anymore, Mr. Stark. I mean—I don’t know, sometimes I don’t feel like Spider-Man anymore when I’m fighting, not the guy that wins.” 

It confirmed everything Tony was already thinking. Something was going on, and it wasn’t good. He couldn’t let his nerves show, though, because Peter needed him, needed him to be strong, to find a solution—or at least work towards one. 

“Okay. This is a problem, but not a big one. All we need to do is work out what’s going on. Maybe you’ve got some virus or something that’s slowing you down. Those things take time sometimes. I’ll get Bruce on it.” 

Peter chanced a look at him. The worry was evident in his eyes. “You think there’s something wrong, don’t you?” 

“I think we need to be sure before you start packing up your suit for Goodwill. We’ll get some blood, and Bruce can start running it through the system.” He patted Peter’s knee. “We’ll figure it out, kid. But”—Tony leveled his gaze on him—“we’re going to scale back your patrols for a while.” 

“Scale back how?” 

“You don’t go out alone. I can come with you.” 

“You’re busy.” 

Tony shook his head. “Not too busy to stop you picking up bruises like a patchwork quilt. I mean it. You either stop altogether, or you wait for me to go with you.” 

Peter’s shoulders slumped, but he nodded. “Okay, I’ll only go out with you.” 

Tony reached over, ruffling Peter’s already messy curls. “Agreement, that’s what I like to hear. Now, what do you want to do? No more training. Movie? Poker? Eat a bunch of shawarma and regret it later.” 

Peter laughed. “Movie. As long as I can pick.” 

“As long as your pick is for a panda with martial arts skills, that’s fine with me.” 

“Sounds good to me. It’s where I learned my mad skills.” 

They settled down on the couch to watch the movie, but Tony couldn’t focus on the screen. His mind was chasing circles around him. It had never occurred to him that something could go wrong with Peter’s powers. From what they knew, they should have been permanent. It just didn’t make sense. Maybe it was just a fluke, something messing with his healing factor, but Peter had also mentioned his strength. 

Every avenue that his brain went down led to more questions than answers. If there was one thing Tony didn’t like, it was not knowing. He liked being informed and having all the information, and right now, he was coming up lacking. The sooner he could talk to Bruce, the better. 

* * *

The movie was just finishing when Friday announced that Bruce was on his way up. Tony had sent off a short message that he needed to meet him in the penthouse but didn’t explain why. 

Leaving Peter dozing on the couch, Tony got up and went to the elevator to greet Bruce. 

“Hey, Tony. You wanted to see me?” Bruce was wearing his lab coat over rumpled clothes, likely from catching a nap on the cot in his lab. Like Tony, Bruce had a habit of getting lost in his work and crashing from exhaustion. 

Tony glanced over at the kid and then back to Bruce. He bit at his lip, thinking over what to say. 

“Tony, what’s going on? You look—well, worried. It’s a new look on you lately, so what’s going on.” 

Tony raked a hand through his hair, nibbling his lip. “It’s the kid, Peter, he’s going something going on and I—hell, I am worried.” 

Bruce’s lips pursed. “What’s going on.” 

“He’s not healing like he should. He’s always healed up fast, and I’ve seen injuries bounce off him, but today ...” Tony shook his head. “I could have broken the kid’s nose. We were sparring, I’ve got him on this new training thing, building up his skill, and I got him in the face, just once, and it bled like a son of a bitch. I have seen him take that hit before and come right up again, but it damn near floored him.” He rubbed the back of his neck, then dropped his hand with a sigh. 

“And that’s definitely new?” Bruce asked, his gaze slipping to Peter and then back to Tony, a line appearing between his brows. 

“It is, and there’s more. He didn’t see the punch coming. He’s got this awareness of threats, a tingle.” The corner of Tony’s mouth quirked up at the name but fell again. “And he never would have let me make contact before, but he said there was nothing.” 

Bruce nodded a few times, seeming to take in the information. “So, he’s getting weaker.” 

As much as Tony didn’t want to admit the truth, the fact was, Peter was losing his strength. “I wouldn’t say weaker, exactly, but yeah, he’s not himself, and he says it’s getting worse. The damn kid only told me about it today, but apparently, it’s been a month, getting steadily worse.” 

“It’s understandable that you’re worried.” 

Tony shook his head, dragging a hand over his mouth. “I’ve cut him off patrolling alone. I’m going along for the ride to keep an eye on him because I know damn well that I’m not going to be able to cut him off patrolling completely. The kid takes his patrols seriously. It kills him to stay home when there are people out there that need him.” Tony glanced back to the couch. Peter was snoring softly, looking younger than ever. Turning back to Bruce, he squared his shoulders. “I will protect him out there, but we need to know what’s going on. You’ve got to work this out.” 

Bruce’s eyes softened, and he nodded, resting a hand on Tony’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “I’ll draw some blood and start analyzing it. There might be an answer in there somewhere. If I can’t spot it, we’ll start doing some other tests.” 

“What kinds of tests? I don’t want him more worried than he already is. If we turn him into a guinea pig, he’ll freak,” Tony said, then tipped his head to the side, “and he’ll be cranky. He hates being poked and prodded.” 

Bruce shrugged, taking off his glasses and cleaning them on his shirt. “You say you need answers, that he does, so he’s going to have to let me work,” he said, slipping his glasses back on. 

“I’ll get him on board.” Tony licked his lips, considering for a moment. “You don’t think it can be some kind of virus, the flu maybe, that’s interfering with what he’s got going on with his power?” 

Bruce gave him a small smile. “Could be. I’m no expert on what the kid’s got going on. It’s not like he’s ever signed up to let me analyze him, not before anyway. I’ll run the usual med tests to see if I can spot something there, but, Tony, I think that’s pretty unlikely.” Bruce patted his arm. “We’ll work it out, though. Your kid will be fine.” 

His kid. The words sat warm in Tony’s chest. There was a truth in them. At some point in the last year, Peter had become his in every sense but blood. He worried about him, protected him, helped him with homework. Hell, Tony and May were basically co-parenting. He’d do anything for Peter. He was one of the few people that Tony held close, that he’d fight to the death for and avenge from the grave. The kid meant everything to him, and that was kind of scary. 

Bruce's assurances made him feel a little better, though. The man was a genius, and with Tony’s skills in the lab, there wasn’t much they couldn’t figure out together. He had to have faith they would work this out. 

“Thanks, Bruce.” 

“I’ll get some gear from the med bay to draw some blood. I’m going to need to use the lab if you want me working here.” 

Tony let out a breath. “Whatever you need. Make a list, and I’ll get any equipment we don’t already have.” 

Bruce eyed him for a moment, making him shift under his gaze. The man’s expression softened, though, seeming to see something in Tony. He couldn’t help but wonder what it was. 

“I’ll head down to medbay. See you in a minute.” 

“I’ll go wake the kid.” 

Bruce retreated to the elevator, and Tony turned to the living room, crossing back to the couch. Peter was fast asleep. The bruises on his under his eyes and around his nose had finally settled into a deep purple. He couldn’t help but feel responsible for hurting him, and just thanked all that was holy that he hadn’t been hurt worse. 

Bending, Tony ran his fingers through Peter’s curls. The kid’s brow scrunched up, and he swatted at his hand, making Tony smile. 

“Wakey wakey, Spider Baby. Nap time’s over. I’ve got Bruce here, and we need to draw some blood.” 

Peter blinked his eyes open. “Blood?” 

“Yeah, I know you probably gave enough already from the red nose geyser you popped earlier, but we need something to work with. I’ll get you juice and a cookie after.” 

Peter rolled his eyes. “What will he be looking for in my blood?” he asked, sitting up. “Like the virus thing?” 

“The virus thing, the healing thing. He’s looking for answers, and he’s a damn genius with stuff like this.” Tony took a seat beside him, nudging him with his shoulder. “He’s almost as smart as me.” 

“I don’t know. You said he was experimenting when he turned himself into the green guy.” 

Tony shrugged, “I did say that. I promise he learned from his mistakes, though. I won’t let you near gamma rays. Hell, the last thing we need is you Hulking out, too. The suit would never fit.” 

“Sure, okay, but I want some of the girl scout cookies I know you’re hiding above the fridge when we’re done.” 

Tony laughed. “I’ll see what we’ve got in the cupboard. I can probably deliver, though. Pepper has a soft spot for girls selling snacks, which works well with her sweet tooth. If she’s not scarfed them down already, I’ll set you up.” 

The elevator opened, and Bruce came in with a tray of syringes and vials. Tony raised a brow at how many tubes there were. Peter was definitely going to complain. 

When Peter shrank back into the cushions, Tony patted his leg. “I’ll make it two cookies. Take it easy on him, Doc. Kid’s not a fan of needles. He’s not over those rabies shots from when he managed to get bitten by a Doberman trying to rescue a cat.” 

Bruce’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “You rescue cats?” 

Peter ducked his head as he shrugged a shoulder. “Only sometimes. There’s this one old lady that—never mind.” 

Bruce grabbed a stretchy band, tying it around Peter's arm. He knelt in front of Peter, reaching behind him to the tray to get a needle. “Here we go.” 

Peter chewed his lip, looking worried. Tony could understand. He was worried, too. It wasn’t the blood draw, the needles, it was the realization that this was really happening. Drawing blood made it real. Tony knew Peter worried about this might mean for him. Spider-Man was a massive part of who he was. Losing any part of that would be devastating for the kid, but a little piece of Tony, a small sliver, wondered if he wouldn’t be safer that way—without Spider-man to put him in danger. It was selfish, but Tony didn’t like thinking of the kid out there fighting crime. 

He just wanted him safe.


	2. Chapter 2

Peter scribbled a note:  _ Is this yours? Don’t steal. I’m watching you. _ Then he stuck it to the bike he’d rescued from a grand theft bicycle. Tony had helped catch the guy, and Peter stuck him to the wall, but they had no idea who owned the bike. Hopefully, the owner would find it. 

Tony’s helmet was off, and he was watching Peter with a little smirk. “What do you say we get some lunch? That little place you’re always raving about it sounds good.” 

“Delmar’s?” Peter double-checked that the bike was secure and then turned to him. He was getting hungry. “Yeah, yeah, that sounds good.” 

They make their way to the small bodega. Murph was lounging on the counter in all his fat cat glory. His tail twitched when Peter approached, and he yawned, looking bored. Mr. Delmar turned, eyes going wide at the sight of the two heroes. Peter was still in his spidey suit, and Tony was out of his, but he always drew a crowd. 

“Hey, Spider-Man, Mr. Stark, good to see you out. Number five, right?” 

Peter nodded. “Yeah, make that two of them, and pickles on one, and make mine smushed—” 

“Real flat,” Mr. Delmar finished. “No problem, kid.” 

Peter left Tony to poke around the store while he found some gummy worms to go with his sandwich. When Peter came back to the counter, Tony was staring at the cat. Peter looked between them for a moment, wondering who would blink first. Tony’s eyes twitched, and then Murph blinked and looked away. Tony looked far too pleased. 

Mr. Delmar set the sandwiches on the counter and rang them up. Tony pulled out his wallet and paid. Peter had money, and he usually hated it when Tony would spend his money on him, but he figured a sandwich wasn’t worth arguing over. He’d make sure he bought next time. 

They took their sandwiches to the top of a nearby apartment building and sat on the ledge to eat. 

Tony took his out, bit into it, and made a sound of appreciation, but Peter needed to flatten his a little more before he could eat it. 

Peter watched Tony as chewed, averting his gaze when the man caught him looking. He took a large bite of his sandwich and looked down at the street while he ate. He pressed the sandwich a little flatter again, pushing a stray pickle back inside the bread. 

“Is there a reason you like to turn a perfectly good sandwich into a frisbee before eating it?” 

Peter rolled his eyes and chewed quickly to clear his mouth. He swallowed, coughing when it lodged in his throat, and then said with a quick breath, “It tastes better this way.” 

Tony raised an eyebrow. “I think I’ll just take your word for it. I prefer to eat like an adult, not a toddler smushing their dinner against the highchair with their fists.” 

Peter shrugged and took another bite. It tasted better to him, and that was what mattered. 

“Take it slow, kid,” Tony said when he took another huge bite. “If you’re not healing, I don’t want to push our luck—I also never learned the Heimlich.” 

Peter's face fell, and Tony backtracked. “I’m kidding. If you choke, I’ll save you, no worries, but maybe go a little easier on your stomach with one bite at a time.” 

“It’s not that,” Peter said, picking at the bread. “It’s just …” 

Tony stared at him for a moment and then nodded. “You’re worried about this healing thing.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Honestly, kid, I’m a little worried, too, but we’ve got Bruce working on it, and you know he’s gonna work it out. As long as you take it easy until we get those answers, stick with me, you’ll be fine.” 

“And if I’m not?” Peter glanced up at him, mouth tight. “What if this can’t be fixed? What if it’s just what I am now?” 

Tony considered for a long moment and then smiled slightly. “How about we save the ‘what ifs’ until they’re needed? We’ve figured bigger things than this out before.” 

Peter nodded and smiled, but he didn’t feel that confident. He was struggling with this whole thing. The fact he’d told Tony felt better, and that Doctor Banner was working on it was great, but he couldn’t deny the nagging fear that it wasn’t something they could fix. 

He was more than just a suit, he was Spider-Man, but what was Spider-Man if he couldn’t save people anymore? And what was he supposed to do if he had to stop altogether? Tony couldn’t babysit him forever. He had a life, work to do, he had Pepper. Could Peter ever go back to being a regular person if he lost it all? How was he supposed to handle watching people be hurt and not being able to help? 

Tony nudged his shoulder. “I know that look, and it’s not good. You’re going to be fine. I’m sure. Dwelling on what’s going on isn’t helping you. Do that whole day by day thing all the best shrinks talk about.” 

“You see a shrink?” 

Tony raised his brows. “Kid, you have no idea, but seriously, quit with the overthinking. You’re going to start sprouting gray hairs soon.” 

Feeling a little better, Peter nodded and returned to his sandwich. He was glad he’d been honest with Tony about what was happening and how he was feeling, at least a little, because Tony had been through worse and knew what it was like. He’d come through some bad stuff, and he would make sure Peter did, too. 

* * *

Peter heard a cry of shock and an accented voice shouting, “Koda, no, bad dog! Come back! Leave the lady alone!” 

His eyes scanned the park, and he saw the man waving his hands and running after the dog, which was charging at a woman who had been jogging. She batted away the dog, but it didn’t seem to take the hint, focused on biting her headphone wire. 

“Crap,” Peter muttered, hopping out of the tree and racing after the dog. The park was mostly empty, other than a few families and someone painting by the water. 

The dog seemed to sense him coming as it left the woman behind and galloped away from Peter. It was fast and determined to avoid capture by its owner, who was running behind Peter, rasping words that sounded like curses in a language Peter didn’t recognize. 

He ran faster and threw himself on the dog. They both rolled, a pile of limbs and fur. The dog seemed to decide being caught wasn’t that bad as it turned its attention to tugging on Peter’s mask off with its teeth. Its breath was warm on Peter’s cheek and smelled like fishy dog food. It was disgusting. Peter batted it away from his face and then jumped to his feet, adjusting his mask with one hand while keeping the other clamped on the dog’s neck. 

“Thank you, thank you,” the owner said when he reached them and came to a panting stop. “He doesn’t like the leash.” He held up the collar and leash. “He keeps getting out of it.” He rubbed his chest and then slid the collar over the dog's neck and fastened it a little tighter than before. “You’re such a bad boy, Koda.” 

The dog’s tongue lolled out in what Peter could only call a doggy grin. It didn’t seem to have a care in the world. 

The man held out his hand and said, “I’m Ricardo Rossi. I’ve only lived in New York a month or so, and I rescued Koda from the shelter last week.” He shrugged helplessly. “I had a dog when I lived in Rome, a Pomeranian, who was much better behaved.” 

Peter didn’t know much about dog breeds, but he had a feeling a Pomeranian was one of those little ones with lots of hair. This dog was not small, though he was plenty furry. He reminded Peter of a wolf. His size definitely fit the bill. 

“What breed is he?” 

“He’s a malamute,” he said. “I wanted a small dog again, but I found Koda at the pound, and he was so friendly.” His gaze dropped to the dog. “I hate to say it, but I think I made a mistake.” 

Peter rubbed the dog’s back and said, “He’s definitely friendly. I think you two just need time to get to know each other, and maybe keep the collar a little tighter.” 

The man nodded. “Google tells me I have to show him who’s the master.” He looks embarrassed. “I haven’t learned how to do that yet.” 

Peter laughed. “I guess that’ll take time, too.” He stroked the dog again, feeling eyes on him. He looked up and saw Tony sitting on a bench, his lips quirked up with a smile. “I’ve gotta go. Good luck with that master thing.” 

Peter waved goodbye to the man and his dog and bounded over to Tony, who was smiling widely. 

“Okay, so I kind of knew you did stuff like this, but seeing it is a whole different thing. Do you often save joggers in distress and arrange heartfelt reunions between dog and owner?” 

Peter shrugged. “Sometimes.” 

“Just a tip, maybe do it without almost losing the mask next time. You’ve done well keeping your identity secret so far. You don’t want a dog outing you in the park.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Still, it stayed on, and all’s good. Where should we go next?” 

“Sorry, kid, I’ve got to call it a night. Pepper and I have some big anniversary coming up.” Tony scratched at his head. “I can’t remember what it’s actually for, but I’ve got to be home and ready to go somewhere fancy by six, or it will be the last anniversary.” 

Peter was disappointed. He was having fun. “Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow. We can patrol, right?” 

“We can.” Tony smiled, patting his arm. “Now go do some homework, watch some cartoons, do whatever it is non-hero kids do.” 

Peter rolled his eyes. “Sure, homework. Great.” 

Homework was necessary, he knew, he didn’t want to fall behind, or Tony would start homework sessions to go with the training ones, but he’d been having fun with Tony. He hated to see it end. 

When he was with him, he didn’t spend so much time worrying about what was going on—or what he might lose. It was nice to forget for a minute and have some fun.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's an extra chapter this week. I hope you guys like it. Things are finally starting to happen.

Tony wandered into the lab, carrying a cup of coffee in one hand and a tea in the other. Bruce wasn’t a coffee drinker, so the tea was for him. Tony hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before. He’d stayed up late with Bruce in the lab, helping where he could, which broke down to a lot of hovering and fretting. The squishy sciences weren’t his thing. Bruce threw him out of the lab around midnight. 

Tony rounded the table and made his way over to the workstation Bruce was at. He had his lab coat draped over the stool he was sitting on, and his elbows rested on the counter as he adjusted the microscope. Tony cleared his throat to announce his arrival, setting down the tea beside Bruce. The man looked up with tired eyes, blinking a few times. 

“What time is it?” Bruce asked, grabbing his glasses from the counter and sliding them on. He wrapped his fingers around the mug of tea and picked it up, taking a sip. 

Tony checked his watch. “A little after eleven.” 

“AM?” 

Tony raised a brow. “Please tell me you slept.” 

“I caught a few hours on the cot, but I haven’t left. I’ve uncovered some fascinating things in Peter’s blood. I think I might know what’s going on.” 

Tony set his coffee down, folding his arms over his chest. “Okay, what are we looking at?” 

Bruce shook his head. “I’m not sure. I’m hesitant to say without more study.” 

“Screw that, just tell me what you know. I need to know if my kid is okay.” 

Dragging a hand over his mouth, Bruce stood and went to the other counter. He tapped the screen on a tablet, then a holographic display of Peter’s blood appeared. Tony watched as the cells moved, and then one of them seemed to consume the other. 

“You see that?” Bruce asked, pointing a pen at the picture. “That was one of Peter’s T cells. It just attacked and destroyed one of the mutated ones. There, did you see it? It did it again.” 

“Explain this to me, Bruce, what does that mean? I have ideas, but this isn’t my field. I need to hear it from you.” 

Bruce sighed, flicking the hologram closed. “It means his body is trying to reset itself. He’s creating normal T cells that are targeting his mutated ones. It’s probably why he’s healing slower, and his powers are affected. This is a system-wide problem.” 

“Will it stop?” 

“I don’t know. At the rate of change, it looks like Peter might completely lose his powers in the next few months, though that’s all a guess. We just don’t know for sure.” 

“He’ll be human again? A regular kid?” 

Bruce shrugged. “It looks that way, but I still don’t fully understand what’s happening and why.” 

The idea that Peter could have a childhood, a real one, sparked something in Tony. That was all he wanted for the kid—for him to be happy. He didn’t want to get the call that his kid had died in some back alley from a knife wound. He wanted Peter to focus on school, hang out with his friends, even that Ned kid who hacked the suit. He’d buy them all the Legos they could want if it meant he was safe and happy. But deep down, he knew that Peter would never be accepting of life without Spider-man. It was part of him, and Tony didn’t know how he would break the news. Call him a coward, but he didn’t want to see the light die in the kid’s eyes. 

“You have to tell him,” Bruce said, pulling him from his thoughts. 

“Yeah, I know. I just don’t know how. I mean, how do you—there isn’t an easy way. It’s going to crush him.” 

Bruce nodded, seeming to understand. “You’ll need to soon. He can’t patrol much longer—even with you by his side.” 

“Can you fix this? I mean, is that even an option?” 

“Honestly? I don’t know. It’s a tall order. I can keep working, see what I can discover, but I think you both should begin to accept that he’s just not going to be Spider-Man anymore.” 

Tony glanced at his discarded coffee, it was probably getting cold, but he didn’t think he could stomach drinking it. The news from Bruce was settling wrong, making him nauseous. His heart felt torn. Part of him was relieved that Peter would get a normal life, but the other was scared. He didn’t know how to break the news. He didn’t want to let Peter down. He’d told him it would all be okay, and this made him a liar because it was far from that. 

He thought of all the times they’d worked on his suit together, of the times they’d patrolled. They weren’t going to have them anymore, but that didn’t mean Tony would abandon him. He didn’t keep Peter around just for Spider-Man. It was Peter Parker, the dorky nerd, that Tony had come to love—and wasn’t that the truth. Maybe he wasn’t ready to say it out loud, but he did love the kid. No matter what happened. He swore to himself then and there that he would be there for Peter through this. Whatever the kid needed, big or small, he would be there. 

“Boss,” Friday’s crisp voice cut the air. “Peter has arrived at the tower. Where would you like me to send him?” 

Tony rubbed his eyes. “Uh, send him up to the penthouse. I’ll be right there.” Dropping his hand, he looked at Bruce. “Any last words?” 

“Just be honest with him. He’s a smart kid—a good kid—he’ll make it through this.” 

“Yeah, but the real question is, will I?” 

Snagging his coffee, he downed the cold liquid in a few gulps, and then turned back to the elevator, ready to face Peter. 

When he got back to the penthouse, he found Peter in the kitchen, eating the rest of the girl scout cookies that Tony thought he’d hidden well. Peter smiled at him, munching one of the coconut caramel ones. The kid looked happy, and that seemed to make it even harder. 

“Hey, kid, I see you’re making yourself comfortable, eating my cookies.” 

Peter hummed around the bite he was chewing. After he swallowed, he took a big gulp of milk from the glass beside him and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “How’re things going with Bruce? Did he figure anything out yet?” 

Tony pressed his lips together, his gaze darting to the floor. “Yeah, yeah, he’s, uh, made some progress for sure.” 

“Mr. Stark?” 

Tony looked up. Peter was staring at him, his brows pinched together, and head tilted to the side. 

“What’s going on? What did he find?” 

Shaking his hand, Tony waved a hand in the air. “It wasn’t—it was just a theory, but it’s—it’s not good.” 

“Am I dying?” 

Tony’s eyes widened. “No, nothing like that, but it’s something—something big, something that is gonna change things.” 

“Like what?” Peter was sitting up straighter, eyes focused on Tony. His gaze was intense, and Tony squirmed under it. He didn’t know how to break this to him. There wasn’t an easy way. He’d run this conversation through his head a million different ways, but they all ended with a broken-hearted Peter, and that was just something Tony didn’t want to see. 

“Your powers—how much biology do you know? Have you gone over cells, like T cells?” 

Peter nodded. “Yeah, they’re like the attack dogs, eat the bad stuff.” 

“Right, that’s about it. So, um, your body has started producing some that are a little confused.” 

“Okay …” 

Tony sucked in a breath, glancing at Peter and then away again. It was too hard to look at his face. He didn’t want to see the pain there. “Your immune system is fighting you. It’s attacking the mutated cells. Your body is—it’s trying to change back.” 

“Change back,” Peter repeated slowly. “I don’t understand.” 

The kid froze, not even blinking. 

“Pete?” 

He snapped out of it, nearly falling off the stool he was on. His eyes were glistening. “No, you’re wrong. You have to be wrong. I can’t—I can’t lose my powers. There’s gotta be something you can do—something Doctor Banner can do.” 

Tony’s heart broke for him. “It doesn’t change things. It doesn’t, Pete. I swear. I’m not going anywhere. Powers or no powers, you’re my kid. We can talk to Bruce, maybe figure something out.”

“We have to do something. You don’t get it. It’s my job to help people—to save people. It’s my responsibility. People are counting on me.” 

Peter backed himself up until he hit the counter. He shook his head, fingers tangling in his hair. Tony went to him, grabbing the kid’s hands and trying to work his fingers free before he hurt himself. 

“Stop, Peter, please. You’re going to hurt yourself.” 

“What does it matter? Nothing matters now. I’m nobody, nothing without Spider-man.” 

“Yes, you are. You’re brilliant, smart, a genius. There’s still so much you can do to help people, so many ways you can still do good. Losing your powers is a setback, it’s a change, but it doesn’t mean that you have to stop being a hero.” 

Peter dropped his hands, looking at Tony with reddened eyes. “I don’t know how to be just Peter anymore.” 

“It’s okay. You don’t have to know. We can figure it out as we go along.” 

Wiping his eyes, Peter looked at Tony. “I think—I think I need to go. I need some space to think.” 

“Are you sure you should be alone? You could stay. Watch a movie, forget about everything for a little bit.” 

Peter shook his head. “I need to think. Call me if Doctor Banner figures something out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let us know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fasten your seatbelts. Things are about to get a little bumpy from here on out.

The blanket was rumbled beneath Peter’s back, causing a lump, but he was too drained to get up and fix it, so he just laid there instead, staring at the poster of the periodic table on his wall. He wasn’t sure how much time passed, just that it seemed to be moving slowly. In fact, everything felt bogged down, muddled. None of his thoughts tied entirely into the next. His head was a jumbled mess of questions and broken dreams. Soon, he wouldn’t be Spider-Man anymore, and he didn’t know what that meant. 

He’d been lying awake all night, turning the idea over in his mind, and he had no answers. 

A soft rap against the wood of his door made him peel his eyes away from the poster. “Hey, Peter, you awake?” 

Not wanting May to see him looking so depressed, he pushed himself and sat on the edge of the bed. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to stick down his bed head. “I’m up. Come in.” 

The door opened, and May stepped inside. Her gaze raked over Peter, and her lips pursed. “What’s wrong?” 

He straightened his shoulders, trying to take some of the slump out of his posture. “Nothing. I’m fine.” 

May gave him a soft smile, walking over and sitting on the bed beside him. She took his hand. “You’re not fine. Has something happened with Tony? Did you fight?” 

He huffed a laugh. “No, Tony’s great.” 

Tony was perfect. He wasn’t the problem. Tony wasn’t the one falling apart, reverting to a nobody that meant nothing. Sure, he believed Tony liked him, but if it weren’t for Spider-Man, Tony wouldn’t be in his life. Despite his reassurances, Peter knew things would change. Tony would get bored with him. Why wouldn’t he? Peter Parker was just a regular kid, and who wanted some annoying teenager hanging around? Spider-Man was the special one—he was the one that mattered. 

“And you know I doubt that.” 

Peter picked at his nails, afraid to look at May, knowing it would give away too much. “We didn’t fight. It’s just been a tough couple days.” 

“Did you get hurt again?” 

“Hurt?” 

“Your black eyes. You said it was a glitch when you were training with him.” 

“No, I’m not hurt.” His shoulders fell, and he curled forward. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind, and I didn’t sleep well. I think I’ll try to catch a few more hours since it’s Saturday.” 

May hummed, patting his knee. “Okay. You do that. I’ve got to leave for my shift soon, so I’ll see you later.” Her hand tightened on his leg, and she sucked in a breath. “Whatever’s going on, Peter, we’ll work it out. You’ve got Tony and me on your side.” 

He forced a smile onto his face and glanced at May. He doubted that it looked genuine. “I know. Thanks, May.” 

May slipped from the room, leaving Peter alone with his thoughts. He dropped his head into his hands, threading his fingers in his hair. It felt like he was living in a bad dream. 

He’d dreamt of losing his powers before—he’d be climbing a building and slip, falling to the pavement, always waking up with a racing heart and clutching his sheets. It had always just been a dream, though. Now, it was reality. He was losing his powers. The people who’d come to depend on him—he’d be letting them down. He might not be a hero like the Avengers or Mr. Stark, but he tried—he did his best. He helped the little guy. The streets were safer because of him. How was he supposed to let that go? 

His eyes fell on the closet, knowing what hung there, ready and waiting. His old suit. He knew he couldn’t put on the new one, Karen would tattle, and Tony would drag him home, put him in time out, take the suit, but his old one—that was different. After the disastrous homecoming, he’d spent some time fixing it, cleaning it up, and stitching the holes. He wondered if Tony would let him keep the suit once his powers were gone or would he take it back again. Regular kids didn’t need superhero suits—not unless they were into cosplay. 

He stared at the closet for a moment longer, frustrated by the situation. He wanted to go out, clear his head, swing around the city while he still could, but he didn’t want Tony tagging along. He needed to be alone, to forget about the problems and just be Spider-man. 

What Tony didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. 

He got up, going to the closet and pulling the suit out. The old web-shooters he’d made were in the pocket of the hoodie. They were the first ones he’d made. The memory brought a smile to his face. 

Decision made, he put on the suit, strapping the web-shooters on his wrists and climbing out the window. It took a few taps to get the old web-shooters to send out a web, but they were working like new after a few tries. 

The city was quiet, but Peter didn’t mind. He enjoyed the feeling of the air rushing against his face. He pushed his limits, flying through the air, doing extra flips as he shot out another web, just enjoying the freedom that soon would be gone. That thought sat heavy in his gut. He pushed it away and focused on the task at hand, focused on being free. 

His gaze roamed the street, looking for danger. His eye caught something. A child was running from her mother, heading straight for the road. Moving quickly, Peter shot out a web, catching a streetlight and swinging low. His eyes never left the little girl. He had to make it—there wasn’t another option. 

Just as the girl was about to step from the curb, Peter was close enough to drop to the street, sweeping her into his arms. She struggled for a second, but relaxed when she saw who it was. Safely away from the road, he set her down. She ran to her mother, excitedly telling her that Spider-Man had saved her. It was bittersweet for Peter. Soon he wouldn’t be there to help the people that needed saving—the people who died because there was no Spider-Man—that would be on him. 

After waving bye to the little girl, he shot out a web and took off again. Things were picking up. He stopped a purse snatching, and then just as he was heading toward the park, he heard a shout from a nearby car park. Looking up, he could see someone near the edge of the building. Shooting out a web, he shot up into the air and began to swing over. 

The building was tall, and Peter couldn’t swing to the top. He was going to have to climb. Peter began ascending the building, keeping his eye on the man above. He still wasn’t sure what was wrong, but he needed to get up there. 

He placed his hand on the wall to climb, but it lifted away, not sticking, and then his feet began to slide. He scrambled to get a footing, but he was falling, sliding down the wall, his grip failing more every second. And then, just like that, he was tumbling in the air, heading straight for the concrete. Panicking, he tried to send out a web, but his web-shooters jammed, and nothing came out. The ground was rushing toward him, but unlike his dreams, he wasn’t going to wake up when he hit the sidewalk. He was going to die. 

Hitting the ground was unlike anything Peter could have imagined. If you’d asked him what he thought it would feel like, he would have said painful, but never loud, which it was. The sound his body made was deafening to his ears, a heavy thump of dead weight hitting concrete. His head bounced once just before it all went black. He didn’t feel any pain, though. It was just like going to sleep. 

* * *

Tony swirled the coffee in his mug, staring into its depths. The morning news droned on in the background, but it didn’t hold his attention. His mind was still replaying his conversation with Peter and the look of desperate shock that painted the kid’s features at hearing the news. The light Tony had been afraid of seeing die, had flickered out at that moment. Peter was broken, and there wasn’t anything Tony could do. 

The sound of heels clicking on the tiles made him look up. Pepper was dressed and ready for work, jacket on, and makeup perfectly applied. He lowered his mug to rest on his leg. Pepper’s eyes raked over him, and her hands went to her hips. 

“Okay, what happened?” she asked. 

He hadn’t had the chance to tell her anything yet. She’d spent the evening before in a late meeting, and maybe he was a coward, but he wasn’t ready to voice his failures out loud, so he’d pretended to be asleep when she’d gotten home. And that’s what it was—his failure. He couldn’t fix it. He couldn’t make this better for Peter. The kid depended on him, and he couldn’t deliver. 

Leaning his head back against the couch, he looked at the pristine ceiling. “It’s been a long week, Pep, and I just want to—” He held up the coffee, wishing it was whiskey. 

“Hide? Tough luck. I’ve seen you looking like that before, and it didn’t end well then.” She stripped off her jacket and shoes, sitting beside him. She folded her leg beneath and turned to face him. “What’s going on?” 

He took another sip of his coffee to give himself a moment to think and wished it had a whiskey’s burn. He felt like he was coming apart at the seams, but he needed to hold it together—not just for Peter—but for himself. He was afraid of what would happen if he let himself fall too far. 

Sucking in a shaky breath, he looked up at Pepper. “It’s Peter. He’s …” He trailed off, the words caught in his throat. 

Her back straightened as she tensed. “Is he okay? Was he hurt?” Tony averted his eyes, looking out the window. “Talk, Tony,” she snapped. 

Tony glanced at her before fixing his gaze on his lap. “He’s got something going on, and it’s bad. Or not. Hell, I don’t know. I’ve never been more torn about something.” He tossed back the last of his coffee. “We were sparring the other day in training, and I clocked him on the nose. No big deal, right? The kid’s a damn hero that bounces back from stuff like that, but he spurted a nosebleed. I damn near broke his nose.” 

“But that’s—how did you even get the hit in? I thought he had that special sense.” 

“Exactly, but it seems his Peter Tingle”—Tony’s lips twitched—“is glitching. So we fixed the bleed and cleaned him up, he was okay, but hiding something. You know how he gets. Well, I got it out of him, what was going on, and he told me he’s been having trouble.” He sighed. “The damn kid waited a month to tell me, and he probably wouldn’t have if I’d not seen it happen, but he’s not healing right.” 

Pepper’s brow furrowed, but she relaxed. “It could be worse, though.” 

“Yeah, but that’s not it. He’s not feeling the same strength as before. His abilities aren’t on point. I got Bruce in on the problem, ran some of Peter’s blood through the system, and—” He let out a heavy breath, shaking his head. He couldn’t help but feel guilty for seeing Peter’s loss of powers like a gift. It meant Peter would be safe—no more worrying that he’d get a call in the middle of the night from Karen. 

“Tell me, Tony, please.” 

“His body is acting out. Basically, the human side of him is attacking the spider parts, and it’s winning. Bruce showed me and, man, Pep, this cell was just wiped out in a second. And that’s happening all over his body.” 

“Is it going to hurt him?” 

He laughed bitterly. “Depends on who you ask. If it keeps going, if we can’t find a way to stop it, and I don’t even know if we should, he’ll go back to being a regular kid again. No more Spider-Man.” 

Pepper placed a hand over his, squeezing gently. “That will destroy him.” 

“I know, I know—but this could be a gift if he’d just see it. He wouldn’t be putting himself in danger every damn day. He could go back to just living his life with his friends. He could go to college, have a life, without having the fate of the world on his shoulders.” 

“He won’t see it that way, though. Really, Tony, I understand how you feel, I know how much you love him, but do you think he could ever live that kind of life after everything he’s seen and done? Could you?” 

He couldn’t answer. He knew he couldn’t give it up either. 

He wanted to forget all of this. Of course, Pepper didn’t see it like him—like a blessing. He didn’t want Peter to hurt, he didn’t want him to feel lost, but if he would just try it, Tony knew he might like living without the burden of everyone’s problems. He loved Peter, and he wanted him safe. Was there something wrong with wanting that? 

The fear was real, though, the fear of the unknown, the fear of losing Peter. If the kid stayed Spider-Man, if they figured out some solution, who knows how long he had before a mugging went wrong, and he lost the kid. But if they didn’t fix this, if Peter did become a regular kid again, would his spirit ever recover, would Tony ever see a real smile from him again? Either way, it seemed like he was going to lose him. There wasn’t any winning. 

The bright ring of his phone cut through his thoughts. He grabbed it from his pocket and glanced at the screen. 

“Let it go to voicemail. We need to talk about this.” 

The caller ID made him pause. “It’s May.” 

His heart clenched, worry washing over him. The image of the kid, breaking down in his room, came to mind. He wondered if she was calling to ream him out for the bruises. How much had Peter told her? Part of him hoped he had, hoped he’d opened up to his aunt and gotten some support, but Tony doubted he had. Peter hid his feelings. 

Worried about what might be going on, he answered the call. “May?” 

“Tony—” A choked sob cut her off. He heard he sniffle before she spoke again. “You have to come to the hospital.” 

Panic washed over him. “What’s happened?” 

“It’s—I was doing a stint in pediatrics, covering for a friend, and—” Another sob stopped her, catching her words in her throat. 

“May, take a breath,” he said, as he did the same, letting it ground him. “What happened to Peter?”

She began to ramble, disjointed parts of the story barely clinging together. “They recognized him, and they came and found me.” Tony heard her suck in a breath. “They think he fell from a building.”

“I’m coming now,” Tony said without hesitation, without hearing more. “Tell him I’m on my way.” 

“I can’t—” She stopped, pausing before more words could fall from her mouth. After a few seconds, she sighed. “Okay.” 

Flying to his feet, he shouted to Friday, needing to know how this happened. It made no sense. Peter shouldn’t have been out there. “Friday, what the hell happened? Why didn’t I know Peter was patrolling?” 

It’s a stupid thing to care about now, laying blame, but if he didn’t blame Friday, then he had to blame himself, and if he couldn’t do that, then he had to blame Peter, and he wasn’t sure he could. 

“He wasn’t in his suit, boss.” 

“Dammit,” he growled. 

As he walked toward the balcony landing pad, he activated his suit, Pepper’s voice chasing behind him. “What’s happened?” 

“Peter is hurt. I’m going to the hospital.” His tone was sharp, but his thoughts were on Peter and nothing more. He didn’t have time for pleasantries. 

His faceplate closed, and he shot into the air. His kid needed him, and nothing was going to stand in his way.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a little surprise update for you guys. Jade is amazingly patient, but I am not. I want you all to read this story so bad. We're so excited to hear what you guys think, so drop a comment and say hi.

Tony landed on the helipad of the hospital roof. He quickly let the suit retract and jogged toward the door, making a beeline for the emergency room. May hadn’t told him where in the hospital Peter was, but it seemed like a good start. 

When he got to the emergency department, he went straight to the desk, knowing he looked manic. He shouted at the first person he saw, a woman in her mid-thirties with thick-rimmed glasses, standing behind the desk. 

“Peter Parker—where is he? What happened to him?” He was frantic, looking at the board on the wall for any sign of his name. 

The woman lifted her hands. “Mr. Parker is being treated right now. He’s in the best possible hands, but I can’t tell you more as you’re not family.” 

He growled. Not family. Peter was his kid. So what if they didn’t share blood? Their connection was more profound than that. They shared a bond. 

His hands clenched into fists, and he pounded them on the desk. “Listen to me, that’s my kid you’re talking about, and—” 

There was a tug on his elbow, and he whipped around, ready to strike, only to draw up short when he saw May. Her eyes were red, and her mascara smudged. Her hair was in a loose bun with pieces flying away. There was something in her eyes, though, a shadow, that Tony knew too well. He’d seen it in the mirror after taking his trip through the wormhole. 

They stared at each other for a minute, and in her eyes, Tony could see Peter looking back at him. He couldn’t comfort Peter right now, but he could ease May’s pain. Without thought, he opened his arms, inviting May into a hug. They might not have been there before, but they were there now. Whatever had happened, it wasn’t good, and they were going to need each other. 

“How is he?” Tony asked, pulling back but not breaking contact. “They wouldn’t tell me anything. I’m not family.” He says the word like it personally offended him. Which he supposed, it did. 

The woman behind the desk held up her hands. “It’s protocol. It’s not personal.” 

May broke away from Tony but kept a hand of his arm. She gave the woman a strained smile. “It’s okay, Karen.” She tugged his arm, making him look at her. He didn’t understand how she was holding it together. “Come with me so we can talk.” 

“Where’s Peter?” 

May pressed her lips together and looked away, sucking in a breath. Tony could tell it was taking every ounce of her strength not to fall apart. When she looked back at him, her eyes were glistening. “Please, Tony. Just come with me.” 

He nodded, letting her guide him to a small private room down one of the side halls. The sign on the door said Surgical Waiting Room. 

“Sit down, Tony,” she said, pointing to a chair. 

She was exuding a controlled calm, something that reminded him of the Avengers when facing an enemy, putting your own needs aside to deal with the threat—or in the case—whatever had happened to Peter. He wondered if it came naturally to her, or if she learned it through her years as a nurse, the ability to compartmentalize. Tony wished he could right now, but he felt like a live wire, whipping in the wind. 

“They took him for a CT because there were signs of an internal bleed, and they needed to check for brain injury.” 

Her words floated through his mind, but he couldn’t let them connect. It was too dangerous. He couldn’t risk falling apart, so he changed the subject instead. 

“How did this happen?” 

It clicked the moment the words left his mouth. He knew the answer. Peter had fallen—his powers had failed him. A wave of guilt hit him so hard it threatened to drown him. Tony should have kept him at the tower. He should have never let him go home. Of course, Peter would go out and try to patrol. His jaw clenched so tight his teeth creaked. This was on him. This was his fault. 

May sniffed, wiping her eyes. “I don’t know. I mean, I always know there’s a risk to what he does, and he’s been hurt, but it’s never been something like this. I don’t understand.” 

Tony understood, though, but he couldn’t tell her that. He wasn’t ready to voice it, to face his part in this mess, and honestly, he was afraid—afraid of what she’d say. What if she sent him away? He’d deserve it for the part he’d played. Hell, he’d probably do the same thing in her shoes. He was a selfish bastard, though, so he kept his mouth shut. He couldn’t leave—he wouldn’t. He needed to be there for Peter. 

Swallowing against the growing lump in his throat, he addressed the most prominent issue first. “Internal bleeding. Right. Do they know where?” 

Would it make a difference? He was a genius, technically a doctor, just not the right kind. The soft sciences were never his thing, though he was willing to learn. If it meant making sure Peter got the best care, he’d study up, make himself an expert overnight—or damn well try. He didn’t know if there were ‘good’ places to be bleeding or where the areas would be, the places that would push him closer to the edge, closer to … He couldn’t finish that thought. He couldn’t bear to think about losing him. Peter was going to be fine. Tony would make him fine. He would fix this. 

“They can’t tell yet. There’s a lot of—it’s big. They need to know where to operate, so they’re doing the scan.” 

Operate. Someone was going to cut his kid open to save his life because he hadn’t been able to keep him safe. He couldn’t do this for him. He had to put his faith into a stranger to do everything possible to save him. He’d never been good with trust. Pepper, Peter, Rhodey, Happy, yeah, he trusted them, but he knew them. This stranger was going to have Peter’s life in his hands, and there wasn’t a thing Tony could do about it. Peter was one of the most precious things in his world, and he had to hand over his care to someone else. 

May pressed her hands together between her knees. “They didn’t want to operate because he’s not stable enough, but with the size of the bleed, they’ve got no choice.” 

Tony realized what she meant. They didn’t want to operate because it could kill him, but if they didn’t, he would die. 

Peter could die. 

For the first time in years, he felt his anxiety creep out of the cracks in his mask. His heart raced, and his breaths became pants. He couldn’t get enough air. His lungs burned. His skin felt stretched too tight. Panic consumed him, and he clawed at the collar of his shirt, trying to free his airway even though it wasn’t blocked. 

May’s hands were on him quick, soft against his skin. She pulled his hands away from the shirt and undid the top buttons. Pressing a hand to his chest, she caught his gaze. Tony absently realized she must be able to feel his heart, a tangible sign of his panic, of his inability to hold it together. 

“Breathe, Tony. Nice and slow. One in, hold it, one out. Feel my hand.” 

He remembered this, from the nights he’d spent with Pepper coaching him, back in Malibu when things were falling apart. He placed his hand over hers, fingers pressing against her smaller ones. He felt it rise and fall with each gasping breath. 

“Peter needs you to be calm,” May said. 

Those were the magic words, the reminder he needed. Peter needed him. Tony wasn’t the one in trouble, the one whose life could be snuffed out at any moment. He wasn’t the one bleeding and about to be cut open, fighting for his life. No, he was just the one who let it happen. 

He closed his eyes, just feeling her hand, letting it ground him. He counted his breaths, each inhale and exhale, his mind demanding that he focus on something. Slowly, his breaths calmed, and the faint tremor in his arms eased. He felt sweaty and off-balance like he was crashing from a high. With every breath, the feeling subsided a little more, and he gained control. Feeling more like himself, he patted May’s hand and let his drop to his lap. She moved hers away from his chest. 

“Better?” 

He nodded. Under different circumstances, or with anyone other than a select few, he’d be embarrassed by his breakdown, but this was May, and he’d come to trust her. Like Peter, she’d broken down his walls and made herself a home in his family. 

“He’s strong,” she said, maybe to him, maybe more to herself. 

It was ironic that she was comforting him when he knew she must be just as terrified. She was undoubtedly one of the strongest women he knew, right up there with Pepper and his mother. 

“He heals fast, Tony. This was obviously a big hit, but he’ll come through it.” 

Tony felt sick for not telling her, but how could he? It wasn’t the time—not yet. 

“He’s strong,” Tony agreed, and he had to agree because Peter had to be strong, had to fight. There wasn’t another choice. He had to pull through this. Tony wouldn’t accept anything less. 

The door to the room opened, and a man in scrubs came in, looking tired. May got to her foot, and Tony jumped up beside her. 

The man smiled slightly and addressed May. “He’s on his way to the OR now, May, though he was amazingly lucky regarding the head injury. There’s no fracture or bleed. The abdominal bleed is mostly effecting his liver and his spleen. O’Donnell is doing the surgery.” 

“He’s good?” Tony asked, tactical and needing reassurance. If this guy wasn’t good, he’d make sure they found someone who was. Peter deserved the best. 

“She’s excellent.” May grabbed Tony’s hand. “Don’t worry. Peter’s in good hands.” 

Tony nodded. That was one less thing to worry about. He looked at the doctor. “How long will it take?” But he was really asking something else, asking when could he see him, when he could watch his eyes open and know that he was going to be okay. 

“At least a few hours. We’ll be trying as hard as we can to limit the time that he has to spend under anesthesia. He’s not as stable as we’d like before proceeding.” 

Fear trickled cold through his veins. It sounded like even the damn anesthesia was dangerous for him. Tony couldn’t wrap his head around how this happened. Peter had been fine a month ago, or so he thought, and then today, he was upset, but he was healthy. Tony had been dreaming of the future, of Peter going to college and getting a job, maybe working for Stark Industries, and now he might not have a future at all. Everything seemed to be spiraling, and Tony couldn’t slow their descent. He was losing control. How had they gotten here? 

The doctor spoke to May as he thought. He wasn’t able to listen, wasn’t able to focus on anything but the thought of Peter lying on a table as they tried to save his life. He was honestly afraid to hear more because he didn’t know how much more he could take. At some point, he would break—not that he hadn’t once already—but Peter needed him to be strong. 

They had hours of waiting ahead of them, and that was the best-case scenario, but waiting was better than not, better than him being dead, waiting meant they were doing something to save him, and they had to save him. 

He couldn’t lose his kid. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the wonderful comments and the kudos! We hope you like this chapter!

Tony hung his head, waiting for the news to come. It would either let him breathe again or crush his world. Pepper was beside him, having arrived at the hospital soon after he had. Her presence did little to soothe him. Occasionally, she and May would share a whispered conversation, but Tony didn’t try to unravel the words, to find any meaning. He let their voices float in the background like a pleasant hum. He was afraid to speak, afraid to move, afraid to break the spell. He didn’t want to tempt fate with Peter’s life hanging in the balance.

The door to the small waiting room opened, and a woman stepped in, her expression serious. Tony tried to read her face, to prepare himself for what she might say, but he couldn’t. He would have to wait to hear the words. Glancing at the clock on the wall, he checked the time. Shouldn’t they still be operating? He couldn’t find his voice to ask, so instead, he watched as May rose and addressed her.

“Doctor O’Donnell.” May’s voice broke as she spoke, her eyes pleading.

“He pulled through. We’re just settling him in a room now.”

Tony let a breath rush out of him, and he swayed in his seat. Pepper took his hand in both of her own, steadying him. Her warm touch grounded him.

“Can I see him?” he asked. “I mean, _we_ , can we see him?”

Tony didn’t like the way the doctor’s gaze lingered on him like she was assessing his place in their little makeshift family. Before Tony could tell her where to stuff her policies and procedures, May cut in. “Tony is Peter’s father.”

Tony’s head jerked up at the easy way the words fell from May’s mouth. It was the first time she had ever acknowledged his claim, his place, in Peter’s life. He looked at her, hoping to convey his thanks for trusting him with that role. It wasn’t one he took lightly.

The doctor’s face did a funny thing as she stared at Tony, maybe disbelieving, definitely confused, and a little curious. She looked at May, perhaps to confirm her words, and May simply nodded. The doctor returned it, turning back to Tony.

“He’s on the fourth floor, intensive care unit. Only two visitors at a time.”

May thanked her and then went to Tony, taking his hand from Pepper’s and guiding him from the room. He went blindly, trusting her completely to lead the way, in more ways than one. He was halfway out the door when he realized he’d left Pepper behind. She was still seated, looking strained. Her eyes were a little misty.

“Pep?”

“You go ahead,” she said, wiping her eyes. “I’ll stay here, make some calls. Happy will need an update. He dropped me off, but I sent him home. You know he hates hospitals, and he wasn’t doing too well.”

Like ripples in a pond, what had happened to Peter reached out and touched so many. Of course, Happy would be upset, too. Everyone was affected—all in their own states of fear.

“Thanks, Pep.”

She gave him a watery smile. “Go see Peter.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He slipped out of the waiting room to find May, who was in the hall talking to a nurse. When she saw him, she said her goodbyes and turned to him. Taking his elbow, she led him in an elevator and then into a quieter ward. The nurses and doctors all spoke in hushed tones around the desk; even their footsteps seemed softer. There was a weight to the air, a feeling of something ominous, like this was where you came when you were close to the end, when you kept a respectful tone because you knew that death was watching, waiting to snatch away a life.

One of the nurses, a man, approached May, seeming to know her. “May, he’s through here.”

He led them to a room with large glass windows for walls and a sliding glass door. Tony had wanted to see Peter, but he was scared now. He imagined so many things. He didn’t know if he was ready for the truth, ready to make it real. What if it was worse than what his mind conjured up? He didn’t know if he could handle that. It would break him, and he couldn’t fall apart—not here, not now. He needed to be strong to comfort Peter. May needed to be able to focus on her child, not be distracted by Tony as he crumbled apart.

May squeezed Tony’s arm and then went into the room. Her voice was light as she spoke, “Hey, Peter.”

It almost sounded like he was awake, and that was enough to move Tony, sending him into the room. His quick steps came to a halt just shy of the bed, and the breathy hum of a ventilator reached his ears. Peter was intubated and surrounded by machines and tubes, looking impossibly pale and small. There were shadows under his eyes, the ghost of the bruising from the training accident was still there. Tony’s breath caught in his throat. He wasn’t prepared for this.

May leaned over the rail of the bed, a small smile on her face as she pressed a kiss to Peter’s forehead.

Tony stared at Peter’s face, hoping, begging whatever deity that was watching that Peter would open his eyes, twitch a finger, anything, but he didn’t. The ventilator continued to drone rhythmically in the background, making Peter’s chest rise and fall in even breaths.

May turned back to him, her expression soft. Her hand was on Peter’s arm, thumb rubbing back and forth. She nodded her head toward Peter. “Come talk to him.”

Tony had to will his feet to move. It was like they were stuck to the tile floor. Standing beside the bed, he let his hand rest on Peter’s leg. Seeing Peter now, his mind couldn’t help but picture the fall and imagine what pain the kid must have gone through. He whispered his name but knew there wouldn’t be a response.

His eyes lingered on Peter’s mouth, and the machine helping him breathe. He glanced over at May. “What’s with the tube?” 

“It’s helping his body rest. He can breathe on his own, he was in the ER, but he’s tired. This is something they can do for him. He’ll probably lose it when he wakes up.” The corner of her mouth tugged up, and she shook her head. “Peter’s not going to like it.”

Tony stepped closer, taking Peter’s hand. “He’s cold.”

“It’s the blood loss. He’ll warm up.” She pointed at the bag of blood hanging from the IV stand. “They’ve got some going in.”

Tony studied the bag. There was a sticker on the front. O-neg. He knew that meant it was universal, but he realized that he didn’t know Peter’s type. That was something he should know. What if there had been an emergency? What good did all the protocols in Peter’s suit do if he wasn’t prepared? He should have paid more attention, asked the important questions. Making sure Peter was safe was on him, and he had fallen short.

The machine beside the bed beeped steadily, recording each beat of his heart. It seemed too fast, and his blood pressure looked too low. Tony had thought seeing Peter would help him, seeing proof of life, but it only made it worse. His eyes wouldn’t leave the bruises, and his mind wouldn’t stop calculating the force of Peter’s fall.

Nothing seemed to help. He couldn’t be what Peter needed, but he had to be. He had to stay strong. _Stark men are made of iron._ His father’s words floated through his mind.

Peter’s chest rose and fell. Too rhythmically, too perfectly. It wasn’t natural. It wasn’t Peter. This wasn’t how Peter was supposed to look. He wasn’t supposed to be in a hospital bed, clinging to life.

At one point, May had dragged a chair close to the bed, sitting down and holding Peter’s hand. She was talking to him, a continuous stream of chatter about work and friends. Tony wasn’t listening, but he was pretty sure she said something about making a meatloaf. Whatever it was, it made her laugh, though it turned sad at the end, her voice becoming a little strained. Tony tuned it out. He couldn’t pretend it was all okay. He didn’t know how much more he could handle. It was all too much.

Peter was hurt because Tony wasn’t careful enough. He’d dropped the ball. He should have made Happy watch Peter’s apartment. His gut had told him something would go wrong, but he didn’t trust it. He should have known Peter would go out patrolling. Bigger things hadn’t stopped him before.

Peter was his kid. His responsibility. May’s words came back to mind—her calling him Peter’s father. He wondered how much she put behind those words. Did she really see him as such? Tony had always been afraid of fatherhood, not wanting to fail. His own father hadn’t been the best role model. He wanted to do right by Peter, though, but he was already failing. He’d let Peter get hurt. He hadn’t made sure he was safe. Instead, he was at home, hiding and planning what Peter’s life could be without Spider-Man.

May’s voice jarred him from his thoughts, making him look at Peter. “Take your time, sweetie. We’re here when you’re ready to wake up. Me and Tony are both here.” She gave Tony a pointed look.

Tony squeezed Peter’s leg. “Yeah, I’m here, kid.”

He didn’t want to wait, though. He wanted Peter to wake up. He needed to see that he was okay. He needed to hear his voice and see him breathe on his own.

Anxiety began to creep out from cracks in Tony’s armor, and he started to feel overwhelmed, like it all too much. He focused on Pepper’s voice in his head and all the panic attacks she’d guided him through. He struggled to remember what she would say—then it came to mind. Five things. He needed five things he could see to ground himself. He started with Peter, laying in the bed—looking ready to slip away at any moment. He could see May—it looked like she was already grieving. He could see Peter’s pale hand—too cold in his own. 

He stopped counting. It wasn’t helping. He focused on his breathing instead. That he could do. His breaths fell into the same pattern as the ventilator, and when Tony realized it made him choke. He kept breathing, though, not for himself, but for Peter. Each breath was slow and deep. He tried not to listen to the whooshing of the ventilator beside him. He could feel May’s eyes on him, but he didn’t look up, too ashamed of himself for falling apart.

The ticking of the clock was loud in the room, and soon, Tony drifted off into a strange state. He was aware of his surroundings, but he was detached from them at the same time. Everything felt hazy and a little out of focus. His emotions weren’t as sharp in the fog. The world was muted and easier to handle.

Time ceased to exist. He was simply floating and waiting.

A gagging, choking sound broke through the fog, though, snapping him to attention. He jumped from the chair he’d sat in and pushed up beside May, who was leaning over the rail, holding Peter’s hands.

“Is he choking?” Tony asked, unsure what to do. He felt helpless.

“No,” May said, seeming relieved. “He’s waking up. It’s okay, honey. The tube is helping. Try to let it work.”

May let go of Peter’s hands and pressed the call button, relaying that Peter was awake. A moment later, people came pouring into the room. Tony moved to the back corner to let them work. His heart raced in his chest as he waited.

The bed was surrounded by people in scrubs, all talking and shuffling around. He listened to their voices, but the words didn’t connect. The only thing he wanted to hear was that Peter was okay, and none of them were saying that yet. He knew they were helping, though, but it didn’t ease the shiver of worry that passed through him when he heard the gagging cough as they removed the tube that was helping him breathe.

After a moment, the people began to move back, and May stepped closer, brushing Peter’s bangs out of his face. “That’s it, sweetie. Nice and deep. I know it hurts. You had a fall. But you’re going to be fine now.”

Peter’s eyes were open and roving the room. He blinked, sending tears slipping down his cheeks. The sight made Tony’s breath catch. Peter was awake. He approached the bed, resting his hand on Peter’s foot.

“Hey, kid.”

Peter licked his lips, answering in a raspy whisper, “Mr. Stark … I’m sorry.”

“No.” He rubbed Peter’s foot. “No apologies yet. We’ll get there, later, believe me, but right now, you just have to rest.”

“What—” Peter sucked in a breath and then coughed again. He looked scared, and Tony wanted nothing more than to fix whatever was wrong. “What happened to my legs?”

“Your legs are fine,” May said with a small smile. “No broken bones. You were amazingly lucky.”

Peter frowned and started reaching toward his legs, the stretch made him wince, and May quickly put a hand on his shoulder, easing him back. “Easy.”

“No!” Peter shook his head, eyes fixed on Tony’s hand that rested on Peter’s foot. “My legs …” He looked to May and then to Tony, his eyes wild and looking panicked. His head dropped back to the pillow, and he stared at his feet again, a line appearing between his brows. With a frustrated noise, he lifted his gaze. “Why can’t I feel my legs?”

Tony felt his heart stutter to a stop. The world around him tipped, and everything he thought he knew proved to be wrong. People moved back in around Peter, and Tony stepped back, breathing so stifled that it was coming in gasps. Someone was touching Tony’s arm, telling him to calm down, but he couldn’t focus. He didn’t know who it was. He stumbled out the room and into the hall. His eyes caught a familiar face—Pepper. She was rounding the corner, coming his way. “What’s wrong? Tony, talk to me.”

She grabbed his arms, touched his chin, trying to make him focus. He pushed her away, maybe too roughly as she made a noise of surprise. He turned and ran—ran faster than he ever had in his life.


	7. Chapter 7

Tony tapped his glass on the bartop to get the bartender’s attention. He tipped his empty glass, motioning for a refill. He kept his eyes down and face closed off to avoid inviting unwanted conversation.

“Iron Man!” Someone exclaimed from beside him, and an arm slung over his shoulder. Tony shrugged it off. The guy made a startled sound. “Sorry, I mean, Mr. Stark. You’re only Iron Man in the suit, right?”

Tony looked over to see a heavyset man with a Captain America t-shirt smiling at him. The sight of Cap’s shield just pissed him off more. He turned back to his drink, determined to forget the last few hours.

“Can I get a picture? Hey, Max, take a picture for me.”

Tony lifted his gaze. The guy was handing his camera to another man and then slinging his arm over Tony’s shoulders again. Tony tensed, taking a gulp of his whiskey and counting to ten in his head. His anger was bubbling near the surface.

“Hey, can you turn around and pose. I know! Give me a peace sign.”

“No.”

“Please, man. I’m a huge fan.”

“Go away.” Tony yanked his shoulders free and shoved the man back.

The man looked disappointed. “It will only take a minute. Just one picture. I’m a huge fan. Hey, is it about the t-shirt? I know you and Cap have history. I’ll take it off.”

The man began to pull his shirt off, and Tony just shook his head, turning back to the bar and ordering another drink.

“Rick, maybe give it a rest,” the bartender tried to interject. “The man’s obviously not in the mood for this.”

The man sighed. “Fine, but you’re kind of an ass, you know. I can see why people prefer Cap now. He’s a least a nice guy.”

“Yeah, he’s a real prince.” Cap had done plenty of shitty things, including dropping a piece of an airport on his kid. Another thing Tony blamed himself for.

The now topless guy put his t-shirt back on and walked away, grumbling under his breath about rich assholes.

And that was the third person who’d tried to take a picture with him in the last hour. It was like they were blind, not seeing the scowl that marked his face. He didn’t look like a man that wanted to be approached. He had no patience for fans right now. There were more important things on his mind.

He knew he shouldn’t have left. What kind of message had that sent Peter? He didn’t want to think of what the kid’s response had been. Peter had so much on his plate. He wasn’t going to walk on his own again. Tony couldn’t bear it.

He shrank into himself, defeated and tired. He knew he should go back, but he was scared of losing it again in front of the kid. He was supposed to be better than that. He’d been so afraid of losing Peter that he hadn’t even considered that something like this could happen. Knowing Peter wouldn’t walk again was a whole different kind of pain.

He ordered another drink. It would be his last. He was running low on cash. He only had a few bills in his pocket when everything had hit the fan, but that was okay. He wanted to forget but knew he shouldn’t. He needed to remember. He owed it to Peter. If anything, the alcohol in his system was making him more aware of the pain. His stomach churned, and his head swam, a little regret crept in around the edges.

Someone took that moment to bump into his back, making him spill his drink. His anger spiked, and he slowly turned on his stool to see the man who’d wanted the photo. The asshole was smirking.

“Sorry, man, did I make you spill your drink?”

“You did, and it was my last.”

The man crossed his arms over his chest. “Shame.”

Tony saw red. The asshole had no idea the bear he was poking at. This had been the worst day in Tony’s life, and he’d survived a bunker in Siberia, being betrayed by his friend. He’d seen Rhodey fall, and this day was worse. The guy didn’t care, though. He just smirked and goaded Tony some more.

Tony got to his feet and shoved the man in the chest, hard. The guy was studier than he looked because he barely moved.

“Seriously? You want to fight?” the guy prodded. “Well, man, you’re going to need your suit if you plan to get out of this without a few broken bones.”

“Do your worst.”

The man swung out a fist, and Tony dodged back, so it flew past. While the man was off-balance, he punched him across the jaw. The man shook it off, though, coming at him again and landing a punch in Tony’s ribs. For a second, he actually considered summoning the suit, but he could fight fair. Besides, he wanted to feel the blows land, and maybe he was okay with being dealt a little pain in return. He needed it, the pain, the punishment. He needed to pay for his crimes. Maybe he’d get lucky, and the man would knock him out. Unconsciousness would be a mercy.

His fist connected with the man’s ribs, and Tony took a punch to the temple. For a second, he saw stars, blackness teasing the edges of his vision. He couldn’t help but hope that it would pull him under, and for a minute, just a minute, he could have some peace.

“Okay, that’s enough, fellas.”

His shoulders straightened at the familiar voice, and his heart sank a little, the prospect of a knockout distant.

Damn Rhodey.

The man knew he wasn’t fighting to win. Tony could tell just by the set of eyebrows as he judged Tony. It made him feel a pang of guilt, a feeling he was becoming very familiar with lately. The guy he was fighting only paused for a second, and then he turned on Rhodey, fist back in full swing. Tony knew the guy had screwed up, and the guy knew too, just about the time that Rhodey caught his wrist and wrenched his arm down and twisted it back. The guy grunted in pain, and everyone knew the fight was over.

“I said that’s enough,” Rhodey said, his voice dangerous.

The guy puffed out his chest, massaging the wrist that Rhodey had just released. A bystander towed the guy away from Rhodey and Tony. “Don’t do it, man. You know who that is, right? It’s Colonel Rhodes. _War_ _Machine_.”

Rhodey rolled his eyes, muttering something about a shitty PR department.

Tony turned his back to the bar and picked up his drink. There was only a trickle left, just a taste, but he tipped it back anyway, relishing the taste.

“Tell me you brought money, Rhodey. I’m out.”

Rhodey stood beside him, shaking his head. “I’m not surprised. Did you spend your whole fortune on this drinking binge?”

“I didn’t spend enough since I’m still conscious.”

Rhodey waved a hand at the bartender to get his attention. “You think you could rustle up a coffee for my friend?”

The bartender’s eyes flicked to Tony’s empty glass and then nodded, going toward the back. He returned with a cup of coffee with a picture of Thor on the side. He was being haunted by the Avengers today. Like he needed to be reminded of all his failures.

Rhodey nudged the mug against his hand and said, “Drink.”

Tony obeyed, grimacing at the bitter, lukewarm liquid. It tasted acidic on his tongue. He looked at Rhodey, conveying his disagreement in a single ‘do I have to’ expression. Rhodey replied by pointing at the cup. Not wanting to get bitched out by his oldest friend, he complied without further argument.

“How did you find me?” he asked.

“Pepper called me and told me you were in trouble. I searched all the bars around the hospital. I tried the nicer places first. I should have figured you’d find a place like this to hide.”

For the first time, Tony looked around the bar, which was dimly lit and skeevy. It smelled like stale peanuts, and the floor was sticky. Women were plying their trade around the room in skimpy clothes with defeated eyes, not changed at all by the alluring smiles on their faces. In the corner, drugs and cash exchanged hands, seemingly without a care in the world.

Tony stared down at this coffee. “So, you found me. What are you going to do now?”

“Honestly, I was going to drag you back to the hospital, so you could do your damn job and take care of your kid, but now I’m thinking I should get you home and pour you into bed to sleep it off.”

“My job.” A bitter laugh broke from his lips. “No. That’s not my job anymore. If ever there was a good reason for someone to get fired, it’s what I did. No one is letting me near that kid again. Not even me.”

“Sure, that’s perfectly fair. I mean, no one said being a father meant responsibility or putting your kid’s needs first. All good dads give up when the going gets tough. Obviously, Peter has never needed you more, which is the perfect time to quit.”

Tony shook his head. “You don’t know what I did to him.”

“No, I don’t, because Pepper was more concerned with getting you back there than filling me in. She just said Peter was hurt bad and needed you.” Rhodey glared at him. “I see now she was dead wrong. What Peter needs is someone that can help him, not someone who puts his own needs over his and runs off to drown his sorrows instead of being there for him. It’s good he’s got such a big family to take your place.”

Tony made a noise in his throat. “He’s got his aunt.”

“Yeah, I’m sure she can handle it. Peter’s not going to need his dad to help him, too. She can take on everything alone and fix it. That’s what she did before you showed up, right?”

Guilt crashed over him, igniting a fire in him. He turned, grabbing Rhodey’s collar and trying to shake him. He had too many drinks for it to be effective. Rhodey was stronger than he looked. He pried Tony’s hands away and pushed them down.

“I’ve never been more disappointed in you, Tones, and you’ve managed to set the bar real low in the past.”

Tony sagged. “Yeah, I’m a screwup. I should have known that when I met the kid and told him to run the other way.”

Rhodey huffed. “Yeah, because he never needed a father figure. And it’s not like he loves you or anything.”

“He loves me, and I love him. Hell, I love the damn kid so much. But I should never have gotten involved. I did this to him.”

Rhodey eyed him carefully. When he spoke, it was hesitant. “What did you do?”

“I knew! I knew he wasn’t strong enough, that his powers were failing, but I let him go off and get hurt. If I’d stopped and thought about that instead of what I wanted for him, I would have known he’d go out again.”

“Okay, there’s a story here I need to hear, and I need to hear it now. What happened to Peter?”

“He fell from a damn building.”

Tony could see the gears turning, and he wondered what he was thinking. He was probably putting it together, but there was no way he could imagine the full picture. He didn’t know how hurt Peter was hurt—he couldn’t. He probably thought it was a few broken bones or a concussion. He had no idea how bad it was.

“I think—” He chewed his lip, averting his gaze. What he needed to say hit close to home, close to things they’d faced in the past. Him and Rhodey, they’d faced this demon once. “I think it’s his spine. When he woke up, he said he couldn’t feel his legs.”

Rhodey went very still, his lips parted. A wrinkle appeared between his brows as he seemed to chew over the words that Tony had said. Rhodey knew that pain and knew it well. He’d been there. Tony had watched him. He’d stood by his best friend as he got the news. It was something he never wanted to face again and know it had happened to Peter.

“Damn—how? I mean, how did he fall? He’s Spider-Man. I don’t—I don’t understand.”

Tony wished he had another whiskey in front of him instead of lukewarm coffee. “Something is going on with his abilities. He’s not healing right, and his powers are weakening. Even if they weren’t, I don’t think he can heal something like this.”

“No—no, I don’t think so either.” His hand gripped the edge of the bar. “But it’s not the end. Look what you made possible for me.”

“He’s so young, Rhodey. He’s just a kid. He’s never even lived.”

“I think you’re wrong. I think he’s lived more in his years than most do in a lifetime. This is going to be hard, I know that, and the cases are different. Like you said, I’d lived. But I still get to live. And so will Peter. You got me through this when I was hurt, and you can get Peter through it.”

Tony wished he had that amount of faith in himself. He barely muddled through when Rhodey had gotten the news. Even having been there before, he felt like a fish out of water.

Rhodey’s expression became solemn, and he patted Tony’s shoulder. “And now’s the time to start. Let’s get you home so you can clean up and then get back to the hospital.”

“I don’t think I can.”

“You know what? You don’t get a choice. You took that kid as your son, and now you need to step up and act like it. You’re going to clean up, get sober, and then go to him because that is your damn job.” His eyebrows of judgment were back, arched at him in their full glory. “Because you should already know, being a father isn’t something you can quit. It’s a job for life.”

He dragged Tony off the stool and out of the bar into the evening air and then into Rhodey’s car. His head swam, and the scenery blurred as he drove him back to the tower.

He didn’t know if he could do it, go back to Peter and be what he needed. He didn’t know if he could go back and face the kid’s pain, the results of his failures, but Rhodey was right. Being a father, that wasn’t a job you could quit.

Once you loved someone and let them love you, you were committed to it. Only a selfish asshole would put himself before his kid, the way his own father had. When he’d realized what was happening with Peter, when he realized that he loved him, Tony made himself a promise, a promise that he would never make Peter feel like Howard had made him feel growing up.

Tony would do better. He had to.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, guys, we've been waiting anxiously to able to post again. You all have been amazing and supportive. Thank you. You might get an extra chapter this week in celebration of finishing the editing on this monster. It looks like this story will be just shy of 100k. And I've made myself cry rereading it. Anyway, I let us know what you think! Enjoy!

Rhodey had shoved Tony into the shower, dumped clean clothes on the counter, and went to stock the coffee pot while he cleaned up.

Finally, putting Peter first, knowing he was needed, Tony rushed through the shower, scrubbing himself clean and then quickly drying off. He got dressed and straightened his hair. Overall he felt a lot better. When he walked into the kitchen, the coffee was waiting. Rhodey had a mug on the counter, which he thrust into Tony’s hands as soon as he sat. Tony downed it in a few big gulps. It didn’t scald his mouth, so he knew Rhodey had added an ice cube while he was showering. He was always good about things like that. As soon as he set the cup down, Rhodey snatched it, filling it back up and handing it back.

“Get it down. You’re drinking the whole damn pot before I’m letting you out of here.”

Tony obeyed, knowing he needed to be at his best. He was worried about May’s reaction to him leaving, worried about what Pepper might say. He didn’t know which would be worse. It didn’t matter, though. He deserved whatever they dealt out, and his thoughts were on Peter. That was his main focus. Tony knew he’d let him down, and he hoped that Peter could forgive.

When the pot was empty, Tony felt sick from the sheer amount of coffee in his system as it mixed with the alcohol. He was sober, though. But it wasn’t because of the coffee or shower. It was purely the need to be there for Peter that had banished the effects of the booze and made it possible to do what had to be done.

Rhodey threw a jacket at him, breaking him from his thoughts. “Happy is waiting for you. I’m not coming. I think this is a time for family, but”—he grabbed Tony’s shoulders—“this is the most important day of the rest of your life. And Peter’s. Nothing you’ve done before is going to be as important as you helping that kid through this. You know it, you’ve done it with me, and you’re not doing it from scratch this time.” He motioned to the braces. “You already know it’s not the end.”

“Got it.” Tony nodded, pressing his lips together.

They were heading out the door when he paused, hearing footsteps. He looked toward the sound to see Bruce stumbling into the room. His hair was sticking up in the front, and his clothes looked slept in. Tony wondered when the last time the man had slept a full night was.

“Do I smell coffee?”

“It’s gone,” Rhodey replied, “and we’ve got to go.”

Bruce’s brows knit together as he looked between them. “What happened?”

“Peter had an accident. He’s in the hospital—”

“Banner,” Tony cut Rhodey off. Seeing Bruce made something click in Tony’s mind. There was more they could do for Peter—more he could do for both him and Rhodey. If they just looked hard enough, researched enough, maybe they could find a solution for the paralysis—maybe they could find a cure. They could fix this. “Banner, I need you to get to work. No, I need you to come with me. Peter’s not—I don’t know exactly what’s happening, so you need to come listen to the doctors. You’ve got to fix it.”

Bruce looked concerned. “Fix what?”

“Peter’s legs. He couldn’t feel them when he woke up. I think—” He waved a hand as he grasped for words. “I think it’s his spine. Come and hear it from the doctors and then get your ass back into the lab and find a fix.”

Bruce lifted a hand. “Tony, there are doctors all over the world working on this kind of this right now, they have been for years, and there are things they’ve found, but there’s never been a cure for a broken spine.”

Tony practically growled when he spoke. “Then you can be the one to find it. You _will_ do this, Bruce. You and Cho!” An idea gripped him. “I’ll call her. Yes. You’re doing this together. You’re going to fix my kid!”

“Tony, take a breath,” Rhodey said, brows raised. “I know better than anyone that people are working on it, you think I don’t scour the articles, but there are no more miracles than you’ve already achieved for me.”

Tony shook his head. “No. We weren’t looking hard enough before. Cho and Banner can fix this for both of you.” He knew he must look feral because he felt as unhinged as his words. “This will happen.”

Rhodey pressed his lips together but stayed silent. There was a sadness in his eyes that Tony didn’t like. Why was everyone around him hurting?

Bruce seemed hesitant, but he nodded and said, “Sure. I’ll come.”

Tony felt a wave of relief. He hadn’t been able to stop Peter from being injured, he hadn’t been there to help him when he fell, he couldn’t heal him himself, but he could make sure the best people were working toward a cure. Sure, other people were working on it, but they weren’t as sharp and bright as Bruce. Tony trusted his friend to figure this out. He had to—not for Tony’s sake, but for Peter’s.

xXx

May was outside the room, talking to a doctor when Tony returned. He rushed over to them, eager for news.

“What’s going on?”

May leveled her gaze on him. “ _I_ am getting a report on his condition. Because _I_ was here to hear it.”

Tony frowned, knowing he’d earned her anger. “Look, I know I screwed up, and I am more sorry than you can imagine, but I need to know. He needs to know.” He pointed at Bruce, who was lurking behind him. “This is Bruce Banner, and he’s going to fix this.”

May didn’t look impressed. “Banner? You brought the—” She cut herself with a sigh. Tony knew she was familiar with Bruce’s history, but he’d figured it wouldn’t bother her.

“He’s a genius doctor, and he’s going to find the way to help Peter.”

She shook her head. “You know when he needed help? When he was struggling so much that he popped three stitches—when he couldn’t calm down, so they had to sedate him. When he was looking for _you_ for answers, but you’d taken off. He needed _you,_ and you weren’t here. And you know what? It’s better for you that you weren’t because you obviously can’t handle him when he’s in pain. You’re just there for the good times. The fun-time friend.”

Friend. She’d called him father before, and now she was dismissing that. He knew he deserved it, all of it, but it still hurt. He processed what he had heard. Peter had popped stitches, he had to be sedated, and Tony hadn’t been there. He hadn’t been there because he was a coward and ran instead of facing the unknown, instead of facing the fear, the fear he’d left Peter to face without him.

His failures just kept racking up.

“Please. Tell me what’s happening,” he begged. “I need to know.”

The doctor looked at May, and she nodded permission. “Tell them what they want to know. I’m going back to Peter. He’s the one that needs help right now.

She left, and the doctor addressed Tony. “Mr. Parker has a spinal fracture at the T12 vertebrae. Though we have been unable to do a full diagnostic assessment because he’s been sedated, we can see no signs of reflex or sensation below that point. We assume at this point that he has been paralyzed below the waist.”

The news hit him like a Mack truck. He felt like he might break at any moment, but he knew he couldn’t break down again because this wasn’t about him. It had never been about him. It was about Peter. He couldn’t be a selfish asshole. May had called him Peter’s father, and he was going to live up to that.

Bruce and the doctor exchanged words that Tony let wash over him.

“I need to see my kid, but you tell him everything he needs to know,” Tony said to the doctor. “Banner, I want you on this. I’ve called in Cho, but she’s not answering. She will, though. I’ll keep trying. Get whatever you need in the lab and fix it.”

Bruce sighed, looking tired but nodded. Tony had faith in him. If anyone could make headway on this, it was Bruce and Cho. It didn’t matter what they needed. Tony would supply it. He’d spend his fortune to see the kid healed.

With Bruce talking to the doctor again, Tony slipped into the room and slowly approached the bed. Peter looked better without the tube, maybe it was his eyes, and he didn’t look as pale. It was a small improvement, but Tony would take it. His gaze fell to Peter’s feet and legs under the sheet, and couldn’t look away. How could something so small, a tiny break of a bone, steal someone’s movement? How long would it take for them to fix it? How long would Peter be trapped in a bed or a chair?

He knew Peter well enough to know the kid wasn’t going to cope. Despite being one of the strongest people Tony knew, Peter was still just a kid. Even in his place, Tony wouldn’t handle it well. Peter was going to have to call on every bit of strength he had to pull through this. He would need Tony to be strong for him, lending his strength when Peter’s failed.

“How much longer will he sleep?” He wanted him awake so he could apologize and comfort him, but at the same time, that meant he’d have to face Peter and how he’d failed him. He knew when his eyes opened that he’d see the pain in them.

“Probably not long. The sedative should be wearing off soon. The longer he sleeps, the better, really. He needs rest to heal his injuries.”

Tony knew what she meant. She didn’t just mean the catastrophic physical injuries; she’d meant the emotional ones too.

“And it’s better for him to sleep,” she went on. “I’ve been a nurse for twenty years, and I’ve seen things you can’t even imagine. I thought I could handle it. But seeing Peter like that. It was a nightmare.”

“I can imagine.”

“Yeah, you have to, since you weren’t here.”

Tony sat down and forced himself to face her, to face what he’d done. “I’m sorry for running out on him. You can’t hate more for it more than I hate myself, but I am back, and I’m not leaving again. Whatever he needs, whenever he needs it, I am going to be here. I will do whatever it takes to make this right.”

The corners of her mouth turned down, and she shook her head. “I don’t think you can fix it, Tony. I know you’re going to have your friend working on it, but this isn’t something you can fix by fighting or an iron suit. This is a physical injury. Our jobs are to help him adjust to his life now as it will be. It’s going to be hard for him to cope, a total readjustment to everything he knows, and he’s going to need us both.” Her eyes became hard. “And I warn you now. It’s going to be tough on us, too. If you dare to walk out on him again, to hurt him like that, I will make sure you _never_ see him again. Understood?”

Tony nodded quickly. He did understand and wasn’t planning on running out again. He’d do better—be better. Whatever it took. “I swear on my own life. I will not walk out again.”

She scoffed. “Everything I know about you doesn’t make that promise all that believable. I don’t think you care all that much about your own life. Swear on something that matters.”

Tony considered her words. There were only a few things in his life he cared about, that really mattered, but there was one thing he cared about more that meant something. “I swear on _his_ life that I won’t walk out on him. I ran before because I love him so much that I couldn’t bear to see his pain. I’m not you, May. I’m not sure how to deal with this kind of crisis, and this parenting thing is all kind of new to me. I don’t know how to do it all the time. But I’ve already learned a lot, and I’m learning more all the time. I will _not_ let him down again.”

She studied him for a moment, mouth a thin line before nodding and turning her attention back to Peter. “When he wakes up, we’ve got to tell him what the doctors said. I don’t want the news coming from a stranger. I want you to do something for him.”

He sucked in a breath, worried that she wanted him to break the news. The idea of telling Peter terrified him, call him selfish, but he didn’t want to be the one to break the kid’s heart. He pushed down the fear, though, reminding himself that he didn’t get the luxury of being afraid.

“What do you need me to do?”

“I don’t want you spouting off about how you’re going to fix this. You can’t guarantee it, and giving him false hope will just destroy him even more.”

“I can help,” he said, glancing at Peter and then back to her. “My friend Rhodey had the same kind of injury, and he’s walking now. And that’s not all. Bruce and Cho will find a way to—"

She held up a hand. “I know about Colonel Rhodes. Peter told me. And that’s great. The fact he’ll have some freedom of movement again is”—she touched her chest—“it’s more than most can imagine. And you can remind him of that, he needs to hear it, but you can’t tell him your other friend is working on a fix. You have to help him accept the facts of the situation as it is right now. If your friends can find a way to help him, to fix him, I will get down on my knees and thank them for a lifetime, but I don’t want Peter to get his hopes up.”

Her words settled strangely in Tony. He wanted to help Peter, to give him hope, but she was probably right. He shouldn’t get his hopes up. He remembered what it felt like to be dying, to be scared every day could be his last. He remembered how alone he felt, how empty and afraid. When he’d found the solution to the arc reactor problem, he’d been scared to hope, been scared to accept the change, scared to believe it was really working.

Maybe hope wasn’t something Peter could handle just yet.

They sat in silence, both watching Peter sleep until he began to stir, a small groan escaping his lips. His eyes blinked open, and he tensed, looking around wildly for a moment like he didn’t know where he was, and then he looked down at his legs and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he looked at Tony.

“How long will it take?” he asked. “When will they work again?”

The kid sounded hopeful, and that made the news they had to give so much worse.

“Peter, sweetie, you need to listen to me,” May said, placing a hand on his arm. “What happened, the fall, it really hurt you. There’s an injury to your spine that’s not—” She sucked in a breath, looking to Tony before bringing her gaze back to Peter. “It’s not going to heal, Peter.”

Defying all science, Peter seemed to pale even more, and tears rolled down his cheeks. “I’m paralyzed?” He looked at Tony. “Tony, am I paralyzed?”

May gave him a nod, and Tony forced himself to speak. “That’s what the doctor said, yeah. I’m sorry, kid. But you’re not alone in this. Your aunt and me, we’re gonna be there for every step. And Pepper and Happy will, too, and Ned. We’re all going to be here for you for whatever you need. And you know about Rhodey. This isn’t the end, kid.”

Peter stared at him for a moment, and then something horrible happened. Peter’s eyes seemed to dull, and the tears stopped falling. He turned away. He looked empty, hollow eyes staring at the wall.

Tony moved closer, slipping a finger around Peter’s chin and turning his head to face him. “Peter, look at me. Come on.”

Peter dragged his eyes to him as if they were weighted. They held no warmth, no life. They were so empty it was horrifying.

“Peter.” Tony’s tone was sharp, trying to stir something in those dead eyes. It didn’t work, though. Emptiness stared back at him.

“I want to sleep,” Peter said. He turned his face away but didn’t close his eyes. He just stared at the wall. His breaths were even, no sign of pain or panic, and he wasn’t crying, but this was so much worse. They had been worried about losing him, and it seemed they had. The Peter they knew was gone. There was a ghost in his place.

Tony guided his head back to him, trying to make him see he wasn’t alone. “I’m here, Peter.”

Peter stared right through him, and Tony wondered if his words even registered. 

What if this was as good as it got? What if Peter survived only to have lost his soul?

No, Tony would find a way to fix this. He would bring Peter back.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus chapter this week in celebration of me, snarks, finishing my side of the collab. The story had been done, but now it's really, really done. We just need to post. I hope you like this chapter. And thank you all for the wonderful support. Each kudos and comment means so much to us. We appreciate you guys so much. Thank you!

Tony sat beside Peter’s bed, watching the kid sleep. May had gone to clean herself up and change in the locker room. She was handing things better than him, but then again, she had years of experience at being a parent. Tony had his father and a couple years fumbling as a mentor. It wasn’t until recently that he fully realized that he loved the kid.

He worried about May, though, and what he would tell her, how she would react. He hadn’t told her yet about Peter’s powers. He’d like to blame the reason that it should be Peter’s choice, but really it was that he was afraid, and wasn’t that something he was a lot. Him and fear were joined at the hip. Fear had become a staple of his life. She had a right to know, though. He was going to have to tell her soon.

Peter’s hand felt warmer than before. They’d stopped giving him blood. He took that as good news in a world where little felt good anymore at all.

Tony checked the clock that watched him from the corner of the room. Peter had been sleeping for hours now, not even stirring. Tony assumed that was a good thing—if he didn’t stir. That must mean he wasn’t in pain, but a selfish part of Tony wished he was awake so he could talk to him. Even though he wasn’t sure Peter was willing to listen. The last time he tried to connect with him, the words seemed to drift past, not being absorbed.

Tony had been in rough spots before. He’d been in pain and seen others in pain. Rhodey was a mess after the accident, but it hadn’t been like this. Peter was so shut down. It was like he checked out entirely. He was just gone.

His knee bounced, and he counted the seconds of the clock as it ticked.

Maybe it would be different when Peter woke up again. Maybe it was just the shock of the news that had caused him to close off. It had to be. Next time his eyes opened, Tony would be there. He would talk to him and make him listen. Maybe by some miracle he’d know the right words and be able to ease Peter’s pain.

He was so ill-equipped to deal with this. Rhodey was wrong. Tony had been lost when Rhodey got hurt. Sure, he tried to help. He’d made the braces, but the emotional part wasn’t where he’d helped. But that was what he had to do now. He needed to find the words Peter needed, prove he was there and staying. He had to make Peter understand he wasn’t alone in this. This was their fight, Peter’s, Tony’s, and May’s. It went further. Pepper and Happy would be there, too. And Rhodey, of course his friend would be there. He knew Peter’s loss better than anyone. He might be able to be the one to help Peter more than any of them. Tony had witnessed his struggle, but Rhodey had been the one fighting that fight. 

Not yet though. Peter needed his family right now. Bringing more people in wasn’t the right thing to do.

It needed to be just them.

Peter’s breathing changed. He was waking up. Tony sat up straighter, and Peter made a pained sound.

“Hey,” Tony soothed, resting his hand on Peter’s arm. “It’s okay. You need some more painkillers? They told us to let them know if you did?”

Peter opened his eyes. For just a moment, they looked aware, sharp and bright, but in a blink, they dulled and the light was snuffed out. He was back to a shell again.

“I’m fine.” The flatness of Peter’s tone matched his eyes. 

“You sure?” Tony wanted to help, needed to do something. “Because there’s no shame in needing the relief. You’ve got some nasty injuries. It’s okay not to be a hero.”

There was the faintest twitch of Peter’s lips, but it was gone before Tony could decipher it. “I’m fine.”

Peter looked away, staring at the TV that wasn’t on.

Tony leaned forward. “Your aunt will be back soon. She’s gone to clean up.”

There was no response, and Tony’s anxiety ratcheted up a few more notches.

“Happy and Pepper have been calling. I figured you’d want a little time before bringing visitors in, but they’re thinking about you. They care.” He swallowed back against the lump in his throat. “Just like I do. I mean it, kid. I know I let you down, took off on you, but I’m here now to stay.”

“Sure.” Peter was empty, an empty husk. There was no emotion in his words. His eyes were empty. Seeing him like this was worse than wrong. The kid had always been so emotive. Tony could always tell what he was feeling, reading him like an open book, but now he was an empty void. 

Tony stood, moving close to Peter. “I mean it, Pete. I am here and I am staying.”

“Okay.”

Tony struggled to keep the frown from his face. His words weren’t being heard—or maybe not believed. Tony couldn’t blame him, not after how he’d run out on Peter.

He struggled for words. “I was thinking I’d get Pepper to bring some of your stuff in for you. Your MP3 player and tablet maybe. Obviously, you’re going to be here a while until your stomach heals.” They both knew it will be longer than that, but he couldn’t bring himself to say the words, to mention the spinal injury, though it hung in the air between them. “You’ll soon get sick of me and your aunt talking at you. Is there anything else you want from home?”

Peter shook his head.

Tony felt like he was floundering. He wasn’t equipped for this. His emotions threatened to consume him, and he struggled to keep the panic at bay. He had to keep it together. He had to find the words to reach Peter.

“You need to talk to us, kid. Your aunt is already going through hell. You can’t shut down on her. She can’t take it.”

The truth, though, was it wasn’t May who couldn’t take it. It was him. Tony couldn’t handle it. Every time he saw Peter’s empty eyes, something in him withered and died. It made him feel guilty, but he needed Peter to snap out of it. They couldn’t help him unless he let them.

Peter’s gaze flicked to Tony, and for a brief second, there was a light in his eyes, but then he turned away again and closed his eyes. Another piece of Tony broke. 

The door opened and the nurse came in. “Hey, Peter. My name is Maria and I am going to need to check your incision site. Is that okay?”

Peter nodded without opening his eyes. This was _not_ Peter. Before the kid would have felt it was rude to act like this, but he didn’t seem to feel anything now.

“If you could excuse us, sir,” the nurse said pointedly.

Tony patted Peter’s arm. “I’ll be just outside. As soon as you’re done, I’ll come back.”

Peter showed no reaction at all. It was like a knife in Tony’s gut seeing him like this.

He left the room, going down the hall to a small waiting area. He sat down and let his shoulders fall. It was all too much, and he didn’t know how to ask for help—or if he should. He didn’t know if he had the right. This wasn’t about him. This was about Peter.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He had it on silent so it wouldn’t wake Peter. He glanced at the caller-ID and breathed a sigh of relief. It was Pepper. She must be psychic as she was always there when he needed her, though she couldn’t say the same about him. He knew he wasn’t as good at being there for her.

“Hey, Pep.”

“How’s he doing?”

“Well, he’s awake … kinda.”

“He’s still shut down?”

“Yeah,” he admitted. He hated that he couldn’t fix it already, that he didn’t know the right words.

“Do you need me?”

Yes, he did, but it didn’t seem right that he did. He shouldn’t be the one in need.

“I’m good, but thanks.”

He sighed. “You’re full of crap, Stark. I’m on my way. I’m not taking you away from him, you can be with him all you like, but I’ll be close in case you need me.”

Tony’s eyes prickled as relief washed over him. He needed her more than he cared to admit.

“Thanks, Pep.” He was about to hang up when an idea hit him. “Can you bring my MP3 player with you? I’ll pick Peter’s up from his place, but he can use mine for now. He likes the same music anyway.”

“Of course. I’ll be with you soon.”

Tony breathed a sigh of relief as he disconnected. Pepper was on her way. She would ease his nerves, be his rock. In all reality, Tony didn’t deserve someone as good as Pepper, and hopefully Pepper bringing the MP3 player would offer some relief for Peter. It might only be music, but it was something.

It was something when he felt like he had nothing.

* * *

Peter had the earphones of Tony’s MP3 player in, but no one had noticed it wasn’t turned on. Or maybe they had but didn’t want to say it. Delicate Peter, a cripple, don’t push him too hard or he’d break into pieces again.

He was already in two pieces. One part worked, it hurt. He could feel the bruises on his back and neck, his head ached, but below his waist was just a void of nothing.

He’d had a few minutes alone after the nurse had left before Tony came back to test it himself, and he’d pinched the crap out of himself, moving as low as he could before the pain in his stomach got too bad, and there was nothing there.

It was like he didn’t exist down there anymore.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. It had been, what? A day? Two? He didn’t know how long he’d been here. He’d been thinking of how it would feel to live as a normal person, no powers anymore, and it had left like his world was ending. He didn’t know how to live without Spider-Man. But now …

He would give anything to go back to his bedroom, staring at his closet and feeling like crap. He would make different choices. He wouldn’t put on his old suit. He would stay there and be miserable but safe.

He’d been so stupid.

May and Tony’s voices were moving around him, talking to each other but not him. He wished they weren’t there. Having them there made it harder to breathe. When Tony had taken off after he’d first woken up, he’d been devastated, but now he saw Tony had the right idea. May should have done the same. There was nothing for them in this place anymore. He was just a messed-up kid lying in a bed. He wasn’t what they needed him to be anymore.

“You should go home and get some sleep, May. I can stay here,” Tony said.

May took Peter’s hand. “No, I’m fine. I can use the on-call room when Peter sleeps. You should go home, though. You need to eat and sleep.”

Okay. They needed him to sleep. He could do that.

He made a point of yawning and closing his eyes. He forced his breaths into the right pattern, not too quick to tip them off, but slow enough to feign sleep.

He could feel eyes on him, and he knew it was Tony. The weight of his gaze was intense, and Peter had to fight tensing up.

It took a while, but eventually someone tugged his earphones out, touching him comfortingly, and then there was a kiss on his cheek. May. “Sweet dreams, honey. Tony?”

“Yeah, I’ll go home and catch a few hours, too.”

Relief flooded Peter’s veins. He would finally have some space. He needed space. Every movement took energy that Peter didn’t know if had, even breathing took a toll, and it was so much worse with them watching. If he was going to be weak, he’d rather do it away from prying eyes. Leave him alone to wither and decay.

He’d never walk again—not really—so what was the point of pretending he was okay. The hollow feeling in his chest told him that something more was wrong, though, something more than the physical, and he knew was hurting them by not talking, but it was too much. What he felt now, the absence of emotion, was the best thing for him, but he knew he’d lost part of himself. But what part was it? Did he lose a piece of his soul or was it the whole thing?

A chair scraped on the floor and then fingers were in his hair. He could hear Tony breathing beside him. Then their footsteps left the room and the door closed. He let out a sigh of relief at them leaving and opened his eyes.

Tony was still standing by the door, staring right back at him, shadows under his eyes.

He looked like hell. It would have scared Peter once, seeing that kind of pain in his friend, but he felt nothing now. It was like the part of him that felt was gone.

“Sneaky, kid.” Tony came back to the bed and perched on the edge. He touched Peter’s leg, but then his face did this strange thing and he quickly moved away. “What do you need?”

Working legs. A time machine so he could go back and fix it. A body that didn’t turn on him and take away what made him special. Maybe to go back to that school trip so he could stay home, never get bitten, never get a taste of something more so he wouldn’t lose it and do this to himself. He needed a do-over.

He shrugged.

Tony crossed his arms. “No, I think you do know. I don’t think you’re as closed down as I was thinking. I think you’re in pain. Pete, tell me how to help you? Do you want me to stay?”

Peter just shook his head, keeping his gaze averted. He should have known Tony would call his bluff and know he wasn’t sleeping. Was it so bad he just wanted some time alone—time to think?

He didn’t know how to be whole anymore. The person he was was lost. No matter how much Peter wished to go back to that person, he couldn’t. He struggled to find the right words. Tony was waiting for him to say something. Licking his lips, he glanced at Tony. “You should sleep. Go see Miss Potts.”

Some of the deep lines of worry eased on Tony’s face, but the pain was still there. “I could help you if you let me.”

Peter would have laughed if he wasn’t dead inside. How could Tony help him? Maybe he could get him walking again, he did for Colonel Rhodes, but he couldn’t fix Peter the way he needed to be fixed. Besides, it went deeper than physical injuries now. Part of him had died, and he wasn’t sure there would ever be a way to fix that.

Tony ducked his head, moving so Peter was forced to meet his eyes. The man took his hand, careful of wires and squeezed. “Let me help you, Peter.”

Peter just stared at him. He wondered what Tony saw in him. Maybe he saw the truth, that Peter wasn’t fixable, that he wasn’t worth it. It was only a matter of time before he saw it. Sure, Tony was a fighter, he didn’t give up, but this wasn’t a fight he could win. This wasn’t even his fight. It was Peter’s and it would be his choice when he threw in the towel. 

“Pete, please,” Tony begged, making him look. Peter was certain Tony was close to breaking. He could see the fissures in his mask. 

“Go home, Mr. Stark.” He sighed, closing his eyes and pretending to sleep.

He felt Tony’s eyes on him, boring holes through him, and then Tony sighed and the mattress shifted a little. “I’ll be back soon.”

Peter hoped he wouldn’t be. He should cut his losses now and move on. Maybe find some other kid to take care of. He was actually really good at it, even though he didn’t see it. He’d changed Peter’s life in the best way. It wasn’t his fault Peter threw that all away.

Tony patted his hand. “I’ll see you soon. I’ll get the keys from May so I can bring some of your stuff in. You want your own clothes? We can probably swing that. Those gowns suck.”

Peter didn’t respond.

The hand left his and the bed shifted when Tony stood. Footsteps crossed the room, and the door opened and closed. Peter didn’t open his eyes. He wasn’t going to be fooled again. If Tony was still watching, he could stare at Peter’s closed eyes instead.

Eventually sleep dragged him under, and in his dreams, he falls, except now it was all too real. The falling was just a dream, the nightmare was waking up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ending line was a killer right? Poor Peter. Also, I just posted a cute post-endgame one-shot of Morgan meeting Peter. It's full of Irondad and I think it's kind of cute. Here's a link if you want to check it out. [Read Here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23805286)


	10. Chapter 10

“Okay, Peter, one more and then we’ll let you rest. I need you to push down on my hands as hard as you can. Use your knees.”

Peter just stared at the man holding his legs. He was wearing different color scrubs than the other people he’d seen. He wasn’t a doctor or nurse. Peter hadn’t been listening when he introduced himself. Honestly, he didn’t care. They were doing tests to see how screwed up he was. Peter didn’t need to be a doctor to know the results weren’t in his favor. The actual doctor stood nearby, and his face gave everything away. The news wasn’t going to be good.

“I know you’re tired, but we need to do this. Once more. Push as hard as you can. As soon as we’re done, we’ll leave you alone.”

That was all Peter wanted—to be left alone—so he played along, focusing all his energy on the place his legs used to be and trying to force the muscles to move. His legs used to be so strong, but now they were limp in the man’s hands.

There was no movement at all.

The man nodded, and the doctor scratched something on his clipboard.

“Okay, we’re done. We need to run one more MRI, and then we’ll have definitive answers.”

Peter knew a lie when he heard one. They already knew. Peter hadn’t been able to feel the pen on the sole of his foot when they’d tested that. He’d not felt the needle pricking the skin of his legs getting higher and higher until they reached his stomach. He’d felt nothing that they’d done below the waist.

Peter just nodded. The man placed his legs back on the bed and covered them with a blanket.

“I’ll see you again later,” he said.

Peter wondered why. What was the point? He wasn’t going to get better.

The man paused, gaze scrutinizing. “We’re going to continue to work your legs to prevent blood clots, and then we’ll work on upper body strength. You’ll need to keep working those muscles, so they don’t waste while you’re healing.”

Healing? What a joke. There was no coming back from this—not to who he used to be.

The man stepped out of the room, and the doctor approached the bed. “I know you’re tired, but there will be another visitor in to see you in a few minutes.”

Peter’s brow scrunched. Tony and May hadn’t left all that long ago. It seemed soon for them to be back. It had only been a few hours, at least he thought. Time had become hard to measure. He lost track of it during the day. Sometimes he’d check out and just float away.

“His name is Thomas Sullivan. He’s part of our psychiatric team.”

The hairs on his arm rose, and he felt a prickle of unease. He welcomed the feeling. It was a nice change to the numbness. It didn’t surprise Peter that they’d called a shrink. It wasn’t like they knew what really happened. To them, he was just a kid that had jumped from a building in his pajamas. They probably thought that he’d been trying to kill himself. He would be lucky not to get locked up in the psych ward. 

“He’s going to ask you some questions.”

Peter hummed in the affirmative.

The doctor seemed surprised that Peter wasn’t showing any reaction. People probably usually freaked when they brought in the shrink. He put his pen away and tucked his clipboard under his arm, stepping out of the room.

Peter stared at the ceiling. It sounded like there was more work ahead of him than he’d been expecting. He thought he’d be left alone soon now they knew just how screwed up he was. 

He considered putting the MP3 player on, but all the songs on it were associated with memories that only served to twist the knife. When they were in the lab, it was Tony’s music playing. When they were training, it was always blasting. It had even been there when Peter had watched Tony creating the self-crafted player since he said iPods were for the rest of the world and that he and Peter needed quality.

His music was always there, and Peter remembered each time. He could see himself standing beside Tony as they worked on his suit, perfecting it, and it reminded him of what he’d lost. He’d never be that carefree again, never have those times back. All those amazing memories were ruined because he was stupid enough to think a broken Spider-Man was still good enough to go out and fight.

His stupidity had destroyed him.

The door opened again. The man who stepped inside wasn’t wearing scrubs. He had a sports jacket over a t-shirt and a scruffy beard.

He came to the bed, holding out a hand to Peter, which he ignored. The man dropped his hand and turned, grabbing a chair and pulling it over. He flipped a notepad open and addressed Peter. “Hello, Peter. I’m Doctor Sullivan, and I work here at the hospital, mostly with children who are having difficulties.”

Peter licked his lips. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse from disuse. “You’re the shrink.”

“That’s not a word I like to use. I am someone that helps people, children usually, to work through what they’re feeling.”

Peter stared at him, hoping to unnerve him and make him leave. It failed.

The man scratched down a note.

“I’d like to talk about your accident. The on-scene report says you were witnessed falling from a building.” He stopped himself, stared at the notepad for a moment. “Are you a big fan of Spider-Man, Peter?”

Peter would have laughed ordinarily, but now he just shrugged.

“I understand you were dressed like him when you had your accident. That you had props. Were you trying to imitate your hero when you fell?”

He shrugged again.

“Did you fall, Peter?”

Peter knew what he was asking. He needed to pull himself together and limit the damage. He was going to have to lie, but what else was new? At least it would hopefully keep him out of a locked ward.

“I like Spider-Man. I was on the building when I slipped. I wasn’t trying to hurt myself.”

The man’s brow smoothed, and he nodded. He jotted something down, then looked back at Peter. “Do you have many friends?”

Peter had friends, not many but a few—Ned and MJ. He wondered if they would still want to be around him now that he wasn’t whole, now that he was a ghost of himself. He wasn’t sure he cared either way.

“Yeah. Loads.”

“And are you happy with your life?”

What a stupid question. He was a kid trapped in a broken body with a broken mind. Yeah, he’d loved his life until about a month ago when he’d started having trouble and realized something was going wrong. He’d liked it still because he had May, Tony, and Ned. He’d found out he was losing his power and thought that was the worst, but that was still better than now. 

“Yeah.”

A doctor’s eyebrow twitched up, and he nodded. “That’s good. I hear you have a good support network in place. I hear Tony Stark and your aunt have been here with you. Do you have a good relationship with Mr. Stark?”

“He’s great.” He looked down at his hands. “I’m his intern.” Or he used to be. What was he now? Nothing.

“It must be nice to have a friend like that. What do you enjoy doing?”

He shrugged. “Science. My friends. Hanging out.”

“And your aunt.”

“She’s great. She takes care of me.” What kind of life would they have now? He didn’t want to picture it.

“How’s your anxiety? Are you struggling with that?”

He didn’t need to lie about that. He wasn’t feeling much of anything, including anxiety.

“No. I’m fine.”

“That’s good. If that comes, it’s something I’ll be able to help you with.”

“I have to see you again?”

The man smiled. “I am afraid so. We’re going to talk again.”

Peter nodded. At least it didn’t sound like they were locking him up, so that was a win. He’d take them where he could.

“Tell me, Peter, how is your mood?”

Peter glanced at him. It was a loaded question. He didn’t even know where to start or how to put it into words. How did you explain the numbness and empty void? So he lied.

“It’s fine.”

The doctor’s gaze was assessing, and he made another note.

That floaty feeling that sometimes swept Peter away was creeping in. He tried to stay grounded, not wanting to go numb when the doctor was there, but it was hard. It was too hard to pretend to be human.

“I would like to talk about how you feel about your injury now. It’s a big thing to be dealing with.”

 _Please leave_ —he thought. He was going to shut down, and he knew if he did that, it would set off all kinds of alarm bells for the doctor.

The door flew open, and Tony stormed in, making the doctor and Peter jump.

“Okay, that’s enough. Out!”

The doctor rose, looking annoyed. “Mr. Stark, this is a private session. You’re going to need to leave while I speak to Peter.”

Tony glowered at him, walking up, so he stood toe to toe with the doctor. “He’s talked enough. You can come back another time. He’s tired.”

The doctor opened his mouth to object, but Tony grabbed the man’s arm and towed him out of the room. The doctor was protesting, but Peter knew there wasn’t a point. You don’t get to fight Iron Man and win, even when he wasn’t in the suit.

Tony shoved the doctor out, pausing to look over his shoulder at Peter. ”I’ll be right back, Pete.”

Peter just blinked but otherwise didn’t react. He was grateful for Tony coming and getting the doctor to leave, but he knew Tony was going to want something in return. He’d want Peter to talk to him.

And Peter couldn’t.

* * *

Tony arrived at the hospital with a bag of Peter’s stuff in his arms. He’d brought everything he could think of, Peter’s own MP3 player and tablet, clothes, a few books he’d found, and framed photographs he’d found in his bedroom. One of the photos, a shot of him and Peter working together in the lab that Pepper had taken, he’d hesitated over. He’d not known if Peter would want it, but he’d hoped he would so he’d grabbed it. If Peter didn’t want it, he could put it in the trash.

He hoped he didn’t.

May was standing outside Peter’s room, leaning against the wall. She was more groomed now, dressed in her own clothes, but still looked worn down. The shadows under her eyes weren’t something she would wash away.

“What’s going on?”

She sighed, her head shaking. “They did the full assessment on his spinal injury, well, as much as Peter would do, and the news is what we expected. He’s totally paralyzed below the waist.”

Tony hadn’t realized he’d been holding out hope until it was gone, leaving him feeling empty.

“How’s he doing?”

“I don’t know. He’s in with another doctor now.” She paused to catch his eye. “A psychiatrist.”

Anger bubbled up from nowhere, and he found himself shouting. “He doesn’t need a psychiatrist!”

“To them, he does. They think he jumped. They can’t understand what really happened. They have to assess him. It’s procedure.”

“No!” Tony growled. “If they talk to him like he is now, they’ll either lock him up or drug him up. He doesn’t need a _psychiatrist_.” He nearly spat the word. “They’ll draw all the wrong conclusions.”

He dropped the bag and went toward the door of the room. May tried to stop him, but he pushed her aside. Nothing would stand between him and Peter. There wasn’t much Tony could do for Peter, but he could do this—he could make the doctor leave. Tony wouldn’t let them drug his kid up. 

He pushed the door open and charged inside. A man was sitting beside the bed, notepad in hand. Peter looked as empty as ever. Tony didn't want to guess at what the doctor was seeing, what he was thinking.

“Okay, that’s enough. Out!” 

The doctor rose to his feet. Tony hated him on sight. He looked like the kind of asshole that liked to pick kids’ brains apart, turning their natural moods into issues and dosing them up. He wouldn’t let that happen to Peter.

“Mr. Stark, this is a private session. You’re going to need to leave while I speak to Peter.” 

There was no way Tony was doing that. This time he wasn't letting his kid down. He crossed the room. “He’s talked enough. You can come back another time. He’s tired.” 

He grabbed the doctor’s arm and towed him outside.

“Really, Mr. Stark. This is important. You’re doing Peter a disservice by interfering. Let me go.”

Tony ignored him. He wouldn't be diverted from doing this for Peter.

He shoved the doctor out and looked back at Peter. ”I’ll be right back, Pete.” 

Peter just blinked, and then his eyes drifted away.

Tony left the room, slamming the door shut behind him. He pointed at the man. “You’re going to stay away from my kid.”

“I understand you’re worried, and there are prejudices against my profession, but Peter needs help. I have a duty of care to him. With what I witnessed today…”

“I don’t care what you _think_ you saw.”

May put a hand on his chest, pushing him back. “Stop, Tony! I want to hear this.” She turned to the doctor. “What did you see?” Her mouth twitched down. “How is he?”

The doctor looked up and down the hall. People were moving around. “We should go somewhere private. Perhaps Mr. Stark can go see Peter.”

“The hell with that.” Tony shook his head, looking at May.

“No, Tony can come. He needs to hear it, too.” 

The doctor led them to a waiting room, and they all sat, the doctor never taking his eyes off Tony. It didn’t bother him, though. He held his gaze, staring right back. He didn’t care what the man saw in him, just as long as he left Peter alone. The kid had enough problems on his plate. He didn’t need someone picking his brain apart as well. 

“I believe Peter’s fall was an accident.”

May let out a relieved breath, and Tony found himself relaxing a little, but he didn’t take his eyes off the other man, making it clear there wasn’t another truth.

“I think he was just imitating his hero, Spider-Man, when he fell. It’s not the first time that kind of influence has ended with injury. With the advent of the Avengers culture, people, kids especially, are trying to create that kind of excitement in their own lives. It ends, usually, in injury or tragedy. There was one boy that tried to create Iron Man thrusters for himself with—”

May raised a hand, cutting him off. “You can’t blame the heroes.” 

Tony’s mind was reeling, though. He couldn’t believe he was getting kids hurt. He’d never thought, but now that he was, he could see how it could happen. He never wanted that.

“Yes. Okay,” the doctor fumbled. “Well, Peter’s injury was a tragic accident, but it’s his state of mind I am concerned with now.”

May straightened, concern etching her face. “You think he’s depressed?”

Tony didn’t want it to be true, but he knew it was. It fit perfectly with the way Peter had shut down. It made sense, really. Why wouldn’t he be depressed? A lot had happened. Tony was struggling to keep his own head above water. He couldn’t imagine being Peter, trying not to drown in the loss. 

“I do. The way he has withdrawn into himself is indicative of what once would have been called a nervous breakdown. We don’t use that term anymore, but it’s the layman’s term for what is happening to him.”

A band seemed to tighten around Tony’s chest. He knew it was bad, but hearing it from someone else’s mouth—it gave power to the words. His kid was in trouble, and there was nothing he could do to fix it, not really—not soon enough. The situation was wholly unfair. Peter didn’t deserve this. It seemed like the universe refused to ever cut him a break. 

“What do we do?” he asked. He hadn’t wanted the man’s help before, but now? Now it was different. Maybe Peter needed a hand, maybe he needed more people in his corner. 

“We closely monitor him. The staff will be alerted to the situation. What you can do is be there for him, talk to him, but do not create additional pressure. I understand you want to help him, make him talk to you, but that’s not good for him. He’s fighting a battle on multiple fronts now, physical and mental, and that’s something he needs support for, not additional stress.”

May chewed her lip. “Do you think he’s at risk?”

It took a moment for her question to make sense. At first, Tony didn’t know what she was asking, but then he realized, and fear ran through his veins, cold as ice. His heart picked up a few beats as he waited for the answer. 

“Currently, no. He’s in a safe environment where we can monitor him closely. But it’s something we’re going to have to consider in the future. Obviously, he’ll be in the hospital for some time, and hopefully, we can reach some level of recovery while he is here. I believe medication will be a part of that, and talk therapy, but now is not the time.

“I will give him a little more time to work through it and then come back to speak to him again. I witnessed today that even speaking to me was pressure he doesn’t need.” The doctor stood, nodding to each of them. “You can reach me easily at any time. If you have more questions or concerns, just speak to the staff, and they’ll arrange for me to come back.”

May thanked him and followed him to the door. Tony stayed glued to his seat, his head resting in his hands. He shouldn’t have barged into the room and pulled the doctor away. He hadn’t wanted to see it, hadn’t wanted to admit it, but Peter needed help, help that Tony wasn’t sure he knew how to give. He didn’t have years of parenting or nursing to fall back on like May. All he had was a stunted emotional capacity and poor parental role models. It didn’t mean that he didn’t want to help the kid. It just meant he needed to learn, and maybe trust the doctors to look out for Peter, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Tony doesn't always have the best reactions. But his heart is in the right place.


	11. Chapter 11

The fork scraped the plate as Tony pushed his food around. Despite knowing he should eat, he wasn’t hungry. It had been three days since the accident, and a new problem had arisen. Peter wasn’t eating. They had him on fluids, but he needed to start eating some real food. The problem was—Peter wouldn’t touch it. It just sat there on the tray while he stared at the wall. The doctor had taken him and May aside, mentioning a feeding tube. The idea made Tony’s stomach bunch in knots.

No, he wasn’t hungry at all, not knowing his kid was sitting in the hospital starving himself.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Tony’s head snapped up, and he looked at Pepper. He’d almost forgotten she was there. A little pang of guilt stabbed him in the chest. He hadn’t been a very good partner lately. Pepper deserved better. She was his rock, though, and always had been. No matter what happened in their lives, she kept a hand on Tony, guiding him and keeping him safe. Some people might think he would be the one protecting them, given that he was Iron Man, but it wasn’t. It was Pepper. She always kept him safe and protected, even from his own mind—especially from that.

Tony set his fork and knife down on the plate and sighed. He didn’t know where to start. Pepper cared deeply about Peter, too, and he didn’t want to scare her with the truth, but it felt like lying if he didn’t tell her. 

“I’m tired.” It was the truth, but not what she was asking.

“I’m not surprised. You’re barely sleeping. Do you even remember the nightmares you’re having?”

He hadn’t realized she’d noticed. He thought he was doing a good job of hiding them.

“Yeah.”

The dreams were always the same, dreams of Peter falling. He would be standing underneath him, arms outstretched, ready to catch. He’d tried summoning his suit, but it wouldn’t come. It was just him and Peter. Tony tried to get under him, moving back and forth, but Peter kept shifting in the air. Time moved sluggishly in his dream, drawing the horror out. It felt like it took hours, but then the kid was there, falling into his arms, except he didn’t catch him. His arms were like smoke, and Peter fell straight through. He hit the ground with a crack, his limbs sprawled at his sides, his dead eyes looking up at the sky. Tony’s feet were rooted to the ground, and he couldn’t go to Peter’s side. All he could do was scream. 

It was all he could do when he was awake, but he stopped himself.

“Yeah. They’re about Peter,” he admitted.

Pepper reached across the table, resting her hand on his. “You ready to let me come see him?”

He’d been keeping her away so far, not wanting her to see how bad it all was, not wanting to add to the pressure Peter was under. The doctor had warned them about overwhelming him. Tony couldn’t help but wonder if Pepper might do him some good, though. Peter was unfailingly polite to her, open and sweet. He wondered if Peter would lower his walls around her, not hide behind his mask of indifference.

It wasn’t his decision to make, though. Maybe when he saw May next, he’d bring it up, but he doubted she’d approve. She’d already vetoed Ned coming for a visit, even though Peter’s friend was worried. May had done a good job running interference, taking his calls, and giving him updates. Maybe soon he’d be able to visit, so could Pepper, but it wasn’t a good time yet. Tony knew that.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Pep,” he turned his hand, taking hers in his own.

Her face fell. “It’s that bad?”

Tony looked at their hands, frowning. “It’s not good.” He drew back his hand, picking up his glass of soda and taking a drink. His mouth felt dry, and his throat threatened to close off. He hadn’t touched any alcohol since Rhodey dragged him home from the bar. Peter needed him to be clear-headed. Drinking before was selfish, and he regretted it. “It’s just hard to reach him right now.”

“Is he eating yet?”

Tony raised an eyebrow. He didn’t know she’d heard about that. “Uh … How?”

“May’s been calling, too.” She smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “You don’t have to hide it from me.”

Tony sagged in defeat. “I don’t know what to do for him. I’ve never dealt with anything like this before, and I don’t know how to handle it.”

“No,” she sighed. “You’ve been through and done a lot, but that doesn’t make you an expert on all of it, and this is even harder as it’s new and you’re not the one going through it. I know how much you love Peter, but maybe …”

He frowned, waiting for more. When it didn’t come, he prompted, “Maybe?”

“Maybe you can’t fix this. Maybe you just have to be present for it. I know you’ve got Bruce working in the lab, and he’s doing his best, and you’re still chasing Doctor Cho, but—” She sucked in a breath, pressing her lips together as her eyes searched his face. “Who are you doing it for? Do you really think they can find a fix for this or is it just your way of dealing, doing something?”

Her words stung, showing his behavior, his choices, in a light he didn’t like. He didn’t want this to be about him, but it seemed like he had made it that way. “Both. I hope they can do it, we need them to, but I can’t just sit by his bed and hope for a miracle. I’ve got to be working on it, too.”

“It’s how you cope?”

He shrugged, turning his glass of soda in his hand. “I think it’s the only way I can.”

“What about working on what only _you_ can do for him? He’s going to need the braces. Why not give yourself a couple hours working on them?”

Tony dragged a hand over his mouth. Doing that meant spending less time with Peter, and he couldn’t help but feel like a coward because in so many ways because that sounded easier.

“He’s still a couple weeks away from even starting that. He’s got to heal first, and then they’ll have him on upper body PT.”

“Yes, but he’ll know they’re coming.”

Would he care, though? He didn’t seem to care about anything at all now, but that didn’t mean Tony shouldn’t build them, have them ready for when Peter was well enough to use them. He shouldn’t have to lie in that bed any longer than necessary, and maybe it would give them something to discuss, give Peter something to look forward to. Tony could keep him updated on how they were coming along.

“Okay. I’ll get to work.”

“You can get to work tomorrow. Tonight you’re going to get an early night and try to get some real sleep. Take something to help. I know you don’t want to be dosed up in case you’re needed, but you can’t go on with the sleep rations you’re getting now.” She reached across the table and gently took his wrist, giving it a squeeze. “If you want, I can stay up in case May or the hospital call.”

He felt guilty for wanting to say yes. It wasn’t fair. He could tell how tired she was, too.

“No, I’ll make sure Friday gets me up if someone calls. Thanks though. Honestly, Pep, I don’t think I could do this without you.”

She smiled. “I love you, and I love Peter. Even if all I can do is support you, it’s what I can do, so it helps me deal, too.”

He knew this wasn’t happening to him, Peter, and May in a vacuum. Pepper, Happy, Ned, they were all struggling, too. It wasn’t just that he and May were on the frontline seeing it happen. Maybe that was the easiest place to be. If May had kicked him out as he’d worried she would, he didn’t think he’d have handled it.

He pushed away his plate, chair scraping the floor as he stood. “I’m going to clean up and crash. Leave the table. I’ll deal with it all tomorrow.”

She quirked a brow. “You’ll do the dishes? Do you even know how the dishwasher works?”

He gave a small smile, though it was weak. “No. But the good thing about being a genius is that I can set controls to all that crap through Friday. Between the pair of us, we’ll get it done.”

Pepper got up, going around the table to wrap him in her arms. Her perfume was familiar and settled something in him. Everything about Pepper grounded him, made him feel safe. Just for a moment, he relished the embrace, letting himself forget some of the stress of the world around him. He needed this, more than he wanted to admit.

Tomorrow he would go see Peter and then start work on the braces. It was something tangible he could do. He was a mechanic at heart, and fixing things was something he would always do.

* * *

The warmth of the sun woke Tony. He stretched in the bed, blinking his eyes open. He’d slept well for once, no nightmares. He felt refreshed. Rolling onto his side, he took a moment to gaze at Pepper, whose sleep-tousled hair surrounded her like a halo. He would never understand what she saw in him, but he was thankful that she’d chosen him for her own.

She’d helped him the night before when they were talking. She knew how much he was suffering, but she didn’t push him. She simply let him work it out, let him work through the steps, offering guidance along the way.

There were no other words for her other than amazing.

He tucked the blanket around her and slipped out of bed, heading straight for the bathroom to clean up. The plans for the day were already forming in his mind while he went through the motions of getting ready. Once he was cleaned and dressed, he made a beeline to the coffee pot and poured himself a mug. After taking a quick sip, he headed for the lab to check on Bruce.

Bruce was sitting on a rolling stool, his head pillowed on his arms and snoring slightly. The scene made Tony feel like an asshole. It was his fault the man would wake with a kink in his neck.

He gently shook Bruce’s shoulder to wake him.

Bruce jerked up, looking around wildly and rubbing his eyes. “I’m on it, I’m on it. I just needed a minute.”

Correction, he felt worse than an asshole now. 

“It’s okay, Bruce. Go get some real sleep.”

Bruce’s eyes widened a fraction, and he looked surprised. “What’s happened? Is Peter okay?”

“Peter is as good as he can be right now. But I’m dealing with that. Your job right now is to get some rest and then come back at this problem when you’re fully awake.”

Bruce’s brows pulled together. “What happened?”

“Honestly, I realized I was pushing onto you what I was feeling, and that’s not fair. Peter is not your kid, and you don’t need to kill yourself trying to fix him.”

“He’s not my kid, but that doesn’t mean I don’t—”

Tony held up a hand. “I know you’re doing your best, and I know the kind of mission I’ve set on your shoulders. I’m grateful for what you’re doing, believe me, but you’ve got to take care of yourself better.”

Bruce straightened, taken aback. “Yeah, so do you.”

“I’ve already had that lecture from Pepper, and I’m on it. _I_ am rested, and I’m going to put my time into what I can do to help before I can go see him. They’ve set proper visiting hours now. Even May is going home to sleep at night now.”

Bruce got to his feet, stretching his arms. “That’s good. Okay, Tony, I’ll sleep, and I’ll come back at it again later. I really will. But I don’t want…” He shook his head, then ran a hand over his mouth.

“You don’t hold out hope you’re going to find the solution? I know. But I believe in you. And Cho will show up sooner or later. If anyone can fix this, you two can.”

“And if no one can?”

Tony shook his head, the corners of his mouth tugging downward. “Honestly, I can’t think that right now.”

“Of course. Got it.”

Bruce trudged out of the room, clearly exhausted, and Tony examined the screen he was looking at. There were x-rays of a spine on there, the break clear. He didn’t know if that was Peter’s x-ray or if Bruce was looking at similar injuries and studies about them. He wanted him focused on Peter alone, and his own ideas, not what other people were doing. They weren’t as smart as Bruce, and they didn’t think outside the box like he would.

He turned off the screen and went deeper into where his workshop was set up. He went to his workstation and brought up the blueprints for Rhodey’s braces. He remembered making them, the failures and successes, and was thankful to have a headstart now.

Though this time, he wanted to do better.

Rhodey could walk, and that was awesome, but Tony was going to make damn sure that Peter could run.

He would find a way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Isn't Pepper the best? And Tony is trying. He's just not too sure about himself. We'll be getting back to Peter next chapter.


	12. Chapter 12

Peter was surrounded, and it was suffocating. Tony was on one side, the picture of calm other than his eyes, which gave away the pain and frustration the man was feeling. May was on his other side, eager and worried. There was a nurse at the end of the bed with a tray of food in her hands. They were all looking at him.

He knew what they wanted, him to eat the damn soup and sandwich, and he knew he couldn’t. It wasn’t just that he had no appetite—he didn’t—it was that he had no interest in the idea of eating at all. He felt nothing about it. All he felt now was empty.

The nurse set the tray down on the table and pushed it up to him. “Here you go,” she said brightly, apparently not knowing the situation. She was new. “You’ve got to be hungry. I’ve heard you’ve not been eating much.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Tony nudged the tray towards him. “But you’re going to eat it anyway, Peter, because you’re not going to heal unless you’ve got some protein in you.”

Heal? That was a joke. He couldn’t heal. That was the problem.

“Please.” This time it was May begging, voice calm and steady. “You have to eat.”

Peter closed his eyes and turned his face away. He wanted them to leave him alone. He could hear the unspoken conversation going on over him. Tony and May trying to work out what to do to help. They didn’t see the truth—that he couldn’t be helped.

“Kid, you’ve got to eat this.” Tony’s voice was firm. It’s the one he used when he didn’t think Peter was listening. He didn’t use it often. Normally, before all this, Peter hung on every word. It was different now, though.

“No,” Peter said flatly, without looking up.

He felt his hand lifted and planted on his tray.

“Pick it up,” Tony demanded.

He felt heat rising in his chest. This was different. After languishing in a void, he was finally feeling something. Anger sparked hot and sharp inside him, bubbling up. He’d been angry before, at Toomes in the warehouse, at the person that killed Uncle Ben, and most of all, at himself. He’d been angrier at himself than anyone, but this time he was angry at them, angry Tony and May and nurses and anyone else pushing things on him. His jaw tightened, and his skin prickled.

Peter opened his eyes, and they were all staring at him. The storm in him grew, billowing out like a thundercloud. He tried to tamp it down, but it was growing fast, and despite not wanting to be an angry person, it felt good. He knew it wasn’t really their fault. They were only trying to help. It was his screwed-up body and brain. Poor Peter, so fragile, he couldn’t even eat for himself.

Tony nudged the tray again, and Peter nearly growled. Push, push, push. They kept pushing him, and soon, he would break. Anger was easier. Anger made sense when nothing else felt like it did.

He touched the edge of the tray, and May smiled. Tony’s face softened. The nurse seemed wary, though. Perhaps she could see what they couldn’t—what slipped by them—the way Peter glared and his jaw worked.

Gripping the sides of the tray, he picked it up, holding it for a moment before throwing it at the wall, barely missing Tony’s head.

May made a sound of shock, and Tony just stared, mouth agape. The food was on the floor, and there was a wide smear of tomato soup on the wall. It felt good to see it strangely. It felt good to see evidence of his anger. It was oddly satisfying.

He’d been lost in this place without feeling for days. Finally, he was feeling again. He wasn’t sure if it was better or worse. Part of him, a very small sliver, felt bad, but the rest felt a release, cathartic even. The looks on their faces showed their shock, and he wondered how long it would be before they gave up on him, before they left.

“Get out,” Peter snarled.

“What?” May blinked in shock. Peter knew he’d hurt her, he felt bad, but he couldn’t show it. He needed to get it out, to release the energy and emotion that threatened to swallow him whole.

“I said get out!” he shouted, glaring at them.

The nurse stepped out of the room, but May and Tony were still frozen in place. They’d never seen Peter lose his temper before, but there was a first time for everything.

Tony stepped closer, putting a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Calm down, kid.” His voice was all soft and considerate, and it only served to anger Peter more.

“No! Go!” He just wanted them gone and struggled to find the words to make it happen. “You think you’re helping, sitting there watching me? You’re not. I need you to go. I want to be alone.”

May looked like she was going to cry. She probably would have if she wasn’t so strong. Tony, on the other hand, looked to be in shock, his mouth slack as he took in the scene.

“Leave!” Peter was shouting so loud his voice cracked, and he was left panting.

With a sob, May fled the room, and Tony's fingers tightened on his shoulder. He stared at Peter for a moment, eyes soft and understanding, and it just pissed Peter off more. 

“You don’t need to do this, Pete.”

Peter laughed bitterly. It was mirthless but felt good. “This is exactly what I need. I want to be left alone for once. I can’t do what you need me to, so stop watching me and waiting for it to happen.” Another laugh broke free from him. He could see the pain on Tony’s face, and he knew that the man would leave soon. Peter would push him away. “I don’t even know why you’re still here, Mr. Stark. I’m not Spider-Man anymore. I’m a cripple. I can’t do what you need, so you should cut your losses and go. Go find another kid. Maybe you can find a way to make them a hero. Build them a suit.”

“Peter.” Tony sighed, head shaking minutely. “It was never that between us, and you know it. The fact you are Spider-Man was not what mattered to me.”

“ _Was_ Spider-Man. I’m nothing anymore. I’m no good for you, so leave.” His breaths were coming in pants now, everything felt like it was spiraling out of control. His grip on his anger was slipping. “I _want_ you to leave. I’m no good for you, and you’re no good for me. All I see when I look at you is what I used to have. It’s not helping. Leave me alone.”

He hated that he could feel tears at the backs of his eyes. He’d been doing so well, anger had felt good. He didn’t want sadness, too. Feeling nothing was better than this.

He kept his voice low and put as much hate—the hate he felt for himself—into it. “Leave me alone.”

Tony looked stricken and torn, but then his expression hardened, and Peter knew it had worked. Tony was cutting his losses like he should. He was giving up.

“Okay, Peter, I’ll go, but I _am_ coming back.”

“Don’t. I’ll tell them not to let you in.”

Tony laughed, but it wasn’t light and joyful—it had an edge. “Really, kid, you think that’ll work.”

Tony patted his hand. It was gentle and comforting, and nothing that Peter wanted to admit to needing. The tears were threatening him again, and he looked away. Footsteps made their way to the door and out of the room, and then Peter was alone.

He sucked a breath in and held out, letting it out slowly before doing it again, trying to get control of his emotions. He wasn’t even sure what he was feeling. It all blurred together and felt raw and wild. He wasn’t in control. With each breath, the need to cry faded, and he felt a little calmer. He was alone, and that was okay. It was what he needed.

He closed his eyes. “It’s better,” he told himself again and again in a murmur. “It’s better to be alone.”

* * *

Tony walked out of the room, getting a few steps away before stopping to catch his breath. He was rattled.

He’d not expected that. He’d never seen Peter like that before. It was the polar opposite of the kid that he knew. He had been hoping for some break in Peter’s blank mask, for him to let them see what he was feeling, but he hadn’t thought Peter would snap, though Tony had some ideas what might be going on. He pushed people away too over the years. It was his favorite hat-trick.

Someone cleared their throat behind him, and he turned to look. A woman in scrubs nodded down the hall. “May went into the family room.”

“Thanks.” He wasn’t sure he could help May through this, but maybe it would help to hear what he thought was going on.

He went to the family room, quietly slipping inside. May was huddled on the couch, sobbing, completely broken down. This was another first for him. He’d never seen her look so vulnerable. She’d been amazing throughout this whole thing, so strong, but that was all gone. She was crumbling under the weight of all that was on her, and Tony couldn’t blame her. She held it together longer than he had.

He sat down beside her and pulled her against his side. He’d hugged her once in his life, but it felt perfectly natural to do it now. She folded into his side, and her tears wet his shirt. He rubbed her back but didn’t speak.

He held her close as she let out her pain, and he lost track of time. Eventually, she calmed down and drew back, wiping her face on her sleeve. Tony grabbed the box of tissues and offered her one, which she took. She wiped her eyes, though they were still red and swollen.

“Thanks. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to …”

“May, it was long overdue. You’ve been so strong through this, stronger than anyone I’ve ever seen. Seriously, you’re amazing.”

She hiccoughed a laugh. “I’ve only been strong here. When I’ve gone home and cried in his bedroom, I’ve been weak. I have taken his suit out of the closet and cried over it. I have slept in his bed and felt like I was mourning him. I could do that and be calm here, but today…” She shook her head. “I’ve never seen him like that. I’ve seen him hurting before, seen him angry. When Ben died, he was a mess. But I’ve never heard him talk to anyone the way he did us in there. I don’t understand it. I mean, he’s in pain, physical and emotional, I know that, but he was out of control.”

“Actually, he wasn’t. I think that was the most in control we’ve seen Peter since this whole this happened.”

Her brow scrunched. “What?”

“Peter _is_ in pain right now, and I think that what we saw was him taking control of it. I’ve not been in his place exactly, but I’ve had dark times, and I did what he’s doing. I pushed people away. I couldn’t talk about it, and I knew they needed to, so I tried to make them leave me behind, so I could deal with it in peace without hurting them.”

“You think he’s trying to protect us?”

“I do. I’m not saying I know Peter better than you, believe me.”

She touched his arm. “You know him just as well. It’s in a different way, but it’s just as strong.”

Her words made his chest warm, and he smiled. “What we saw in there was Peter trying to save all of us, himself included.”

“What do we do? How do we help?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure. I did manage to drive some people away. I was good at it. They came back, though. I think we stick around now and not give him what he _thinks_ he wants. We give him more space maybe, I think there was some truth in what he said about pressure, but we don’t leave him completely. We make sure he knows we’re here when he needs us.”

May looked relieved, like she was happy to have someone guide her, which was totally new. Tony wasn’t used to being the one in that position, not with May. He always looked to her for direction, not the other way around. They needed to give Peter more space, but not too much. He couldn’t succeed in pushing them away.

He _was_ going to eat, or Tony would stand by and watch them set up the feeding tube, even if Peter hated him for it after. Peter needed nutrition, and he’d find a way to make sure he got it.

He patted May’s arm. “You go home for the day. Get a real meal into you and some real sleep. I’ll stick around here a while longer, and then we’ll give him a night to himself. I’ll make sure they call me if there’s any problem, and I’ll call you if I need to. Give yourself a night off, though. Trust me with him.”

“With our kid?”

He smiled, the warmth in his chest growing. “Yeah, trust me with our kid.”

She leaned against him again and hugged him, then got to her feet and left. Tony settled in the seat and took out his phone. He was going to get Happy on a mission for him. He had an idea. If he couldn’t persuade Peter to eat a Delmar’s sandwich, he didn’t think he could make him eat anything at all.

* * *

Happy fidgeted, eyes darting around the hospital lobby.

“How’s the kid?”

Tony sighed. “Honestly, he’s a mess, but I’m hoping we might get somewhere after what I saw today.”

“What did you see? Like improvement?” He sounded hopeful. “His legs?”

Tony shook his head. “No, not them, but we finally got some emotion out of him. He’s been shut down since it happened, but he had an angry outburst today that I think means we might be able to reach him.”

“He’s been shut down?” Happy sounded shocked, and Tony couldn’t blame him. The kid was always an energizer bunny. He never shut up, not even when things were going south in a fight. The kid always talked. Him shutting down went against everything they knew Peter to be.

Tony wished he could talk to Happy more, but he wanted to get to Peter. He made a promise to himself to give Happy more explanation later, but for now, he needed to get back to his kid.

“I’ve got to go.”

Happy held out the sandwich. “It was a five, right?”

“Yeah.”

“The guy asked if it was for him and then squashed it flat. That’s okay, right?”

Tony huffed a laugh. “Definitely. It’s how the kid likes them. Don’t ask me why. I still don’t get it.”

Happy patted his arm, and they said goodbye, and Tony headed for Peter’s room. He stopped outside it and took a breath, hoping Peter was feeling a little more in control. When he stepped inside, Peter was staring at the ceiling. He didn’t look angry, but he didn’t look happy either. There was emotion in his eyes, though, so that couldn’t be all that bad. He wasn’t shut down.

Tony braced himself. He couldn’t offer comfort yet. That wasn’t what Peter needed. He needed him to be firm. It was going to be tough, but he had to do it. If they left Peter to his own devices, he would wither away in that bed. Someone needed to get through to him.

He dropped the sandwich on the table, noticing the mess from Peter’s lunch had been cleaned up.

“Eat.”

Peter glared at him. “Go.”

Tony pulled a chair around. “No.”

“I want you to leave.”

“I know you do, but you don’t always get what you want.”

Peter looked away again.

“I know what you’re doing, Peter, I’ve done it myself, and it worked for me for a while, but there were people that were strong enough and smart enough to see what I was doing, and they came back. I came back.”

Peter’s jaw worked side to side. “That’s you. Not me.”

“You don’t think I see myself in you? Hell, kid, we’re more alike than you’d think, now more than ever. I’ve been where you are.”

Peter laughed bitterly. “You broke your spine? Wow. Miracle recovery. How did you do it?”

“I didn’t break my spine, but I came damn close to dying. My arc reactor wasn’t working. It was killing me, so I gave up. I threw myself a party, handed over the company, basically lived the party I wanted my funeral to be. And then I got angry. I was pissed that it was happening. Just like you’re pissed now.”

“I’m only pissed that I’m not being listened to.”

“Maybe, but that’s only because you’re trying to make this easier on yourself and us. You figure if you’re going to die, it’s better to get it over fast.”

Peter’s eyes widened, and Tony wondered what was going through his mind.

“The problem is,” Tony continued, “none of us are going to give up on you.”

Peter let out a breath, sinking back into the pillow. “What do you want from me? I can’t be what you need me to be anymore. I am not that person. I’m a cripple. I’m useless.”

Tony’s voice was sharp when he spoke next. “Like Rhodey’s a cripple? You know that’s not true. Look at what he can do now. What you’ll be able to do.” He had to fight not to give him hope about running in his new braces—or worse, about what he had Bruce working on.

“You don’t get it.”

“No? Then tell me what’s going on in that head of yours. Let me help you.”

Peter was silent for a full minute, and Tony let him work through it. He hoped this would work as he needed it to.

The corners of Peter’s mouth twitched downward, and a little sadness washed over his face. It was what Tony needed to see, though he hated it. Peter should be sad—he should be devastated. Anger was good, but showing his loss would be better.

Peter kept his gaze on the sandwich as he spoke, not looking at Tony once. “You know, I thought I was losing everything when you told me I was losing my powers. I thought that was the end for me. I couldn’t see a life past that. It felt like I was looking at death.” He laughed, shaking his head. “I was dead wrong. I was so damn stupid. This… this is…”

A sharp pain stabbed Tony in the chest. “This is what dying is like?” Tony put a voice to what he knew the kid was saying, though it hurt to do.

He could see a battle being fought in Peter, emotions flitting across his face. He finally settled on sadness. “Dying would have been better.”

The stab of pain he’d felt earlier grew tenfold. It consumed him, and Tony had to struggle against it, struggle to stay strong, and be the rock Peter needed. He needed to hide his emotions and deal.

“Not for me. Not for May. Not for anyone that loves you.” He looked at Peter, searching for the truth as he asked, “Do you want to die, Peter?” He was scared of the answer.

Peter was silent for a long time. “I didn’t want anything at all at first. I didn’t feel anything. Now I feel …” He flinched. “I feel everything.” He looked down at his hands, his brow scrunched. “I don’t think death would be better, that’s selfish, but I don’t feel like life is worth that much for me either.”

It wasn’t the worst answer, but it wasn’t good either. It worried him.

Peter squeezed his eyes closed and covered his face. Tony couldn’t tell if it was anger or sadness or something else overwhelming him. It made him hesitate. He needed to tread lightly.

Peter lowered his hands. He was crying. “I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t think I want to die, but I don’t think I want to live either. It’s all gone.” He sobbed. “I’ve lost it all.” The kid’s face contorted in pain. “I’m scared. What do I do? Tell me what to do. Mr. Stark … please …”

Tony fought his own tears, getting onto the bed beside him. He tugged Peter into his side, wrapping an arm around him, feeling his shoulder dig into his side. It was too thin. Peter had been losing weight. They needed to get him eating again. 

“It’s okay, kid. You’re not going to be alone. All you’ve got to do is keep fighting. Me and your aunt are going to be here for you. You don’t need to try to send us away. We want to be here because we love you.”

Peter’s shoulders shook, and he sniffled, congested and wet sounding, then another round of sobbing began. Tony held him, shushing him softly and rubbing his arm. Tears begin to fall from Tony’s eyes, and he cried for Peter, for everything awful that had happened to him, and for every struggle he would face.

“I love you, kid. That’s never going to change, no matter what you say or do. I love you, and I’m going to be here.”

Peter sobbed, losing it completely, making a lot of noise, but thankfully, no one came in. Tony knew Peter needed this. He had to let it out. It was the start of healing.

Together, their tears fell, and Tony shared in his kid’s pain.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys for all the comments and kudos. They mean so much to us!

Peter was lying with his arm over his eyes. It had been a day since his breakdown, and he missed the numbness from before. Now emotion swirled in him, and he felt like he might drown. He’d been embarrassed by his meltdown, but Tony had been amazing. The man eased some of the pain, making him feel like breaking down wasn’t the worst thing to happen, like maybe in a way it made him stronger. Tony had held him until he calmed and then settled back in his seat and instructed him to eat his sandwich.

Peter had tried, but his stomach seemed to have shrunk. He’d eaten enough to satisfy Tony, though, and then relaxed back on the pillows for a while. They didn’t talk more, but Tony had stayed. Peter had been so exhausted by his breakdown that he’d fallen asleep, but when he woke, there was a note on the table from Tony saying he’d come back tomorrow and to get some rest.

He felt alone without Tony or May there, but it was easier to show his true feelings without witnesses.

And his true feelings were hard to bear. 

He’d eaten some breakfast and was waiting for May and Tony to come back, worried about facing May after his outburst. He regretted hurting her.

The door opened, and he braced himself, but it wasn’t May or Tony. It was a male nurse pushing a wheelchair. Peter’s hands fisted. Since he’d woken up, he’d thought that this would come sooner or later, but now he was scared. He glared at the wheelchair, familiar anger blossoming in his chest.

“Hey, Peter, it’s moving day.”

“Moving?”

“Yep. You’d don’t need ICU anymore, so we’re taking you down to the pediatrics ward.” The man seemed happy and eager like this was good news. Maybe for some people, it was, but not Peter, not if it meant getting in that chair.

Peter pushed himself up straighter, his legs useless on the bed. Moving around was getting easier, though. He was starting to get used to the weight. “Can’t you just wheel the bed?”

The man had a bright smile. “No can do, buddy. That’s too heavy to tote all that way. Besides, this’ll be faster.”

He set the wheelchair beside the bed and tugged back Peter’s blankets. Peter tried to cover himself again, but the man was insistent.

“I know you don’t want to do this, you’re not the first paraplegic I’ve seen, but the first time is the hardest. It’ll get easier after a while, and once you’re used to the chair, you’ll see the freedom it’ll give you.”

A chair wasn’t freedom. Working legs was freedom. Spider-Man was freedom. That chair was a prison.

The man moved the chair close to the bed and surveyed the situation.

“We can do this one of two ways for the first time,” the man explained. “We can use a lift, or I think you’re light enough, I shift you into the chair. Either way, you’re in good hands. I won’t let you fall.”

Peter considered his options, his eyes never leaving the chair. “I think—I think you can just help me. My arms are pretty strong, anyway.”

“Okay, I like the way you think. Let’s do this.”

He was breathing hard through his nose by the time he made it into the chair, worn down, and his heart racing with anxiety. His hand gripped his numb legs to hide the fact they were shaking. He hated that he couldn’t feel them, despite the way he was digging his nails in.

“Anything you want to bring from here?” the nurse asked.

“No,” he said through his teeth, still shaken from moving to the chair.

“We’ve got a bag of your stuff at the station that we can pick up on the way. Your father brought it by last night.”

Peter frowned. “My father?”

The nurse laughed. “Yeah, I figured we’d have known if Iron Man had a son.”

“Oh.” How did they come to the conclusion that Peter was his kid? Had it been something that they’d said so Tony could see him, maybe rules were strict, or had it been something Tony had said himself? That thought stopped him, and he needed to take a steadying breath.

Had Tony said he was his father? He called him kid, but that was generic. Peter thought of him as a father, he loved him like one, and Tony said he loved him. He didn’t know and couldn’t ask. It was probably too much to hope for anyway.

The chair started moving, and Peter’s breaths hitched and caught, coming faster and faster. It wasn’t the movement making him anxious. It was the fact that this was his life now. He was the kid in the wheelchair. Maybe he’d get to walk again like Colonel Rhodes if Tony could pull it off, but what if he was different? What if his break wasn’t the same, and the braces wouldn’t work?

He dug his fingers in his legs until his fingertips hurt. His breaths came in pants as the weight of everything collapsed on top of him. Tears prickled at the corners of his eyes.

They reached the nurse’s station, and the chair stopped. His heart was pounding in his ears. He had to calm down. His stomach was starting to hurt from the way his muscles were clenching. He tried to breathe through his nose and calm down but failed. He was slipping and slipping fast. 

A face swam in front of him. It was the nurse. “Okay, Peter, I know this is tough. Do you want me to see if we can get you something to help you calm down?”

He shook his head. “I’m—I’m fine.”

He wasn’t sure if he’d ever been less fine in his life, but he had to do this. He could handle it—or at least try.

“Peter?”

The voice came from the end of the hall. He looked up through teary eyes and saw Tony walking towards him. His face looked stiff, like he was holding something back, but he forced a smile when he reached him. He squatted in front of Peter, taking Peter’s hands from where he was digging his legs.

“Okay, kid, just breathe. Are you in pain?”

Peter shook his head.

“Anxiety attack,” the nurse supplied. “It’s common the first time they get in the chair.”

Tony’s scowled at the man. “Well, I don’t think sitting here with people watching is doing him any good. Where were you taking him?”

“Second floor. Pediatrics. I can take you down.”

“I’ll find it.” Tony’s tone left no room for argument. He placed Peter’s hands back down and stood, coming around behind Peter.

The chair started moving again, and Peter sucked in a shaky breath. They reached the elevator, and Tony pushed them inside, but before they really started moving, Tony pressed a button, bringing it to a halt. Peter was still struggling to get his breathing under control. He hated feeling weak, being weak, in front of his mentor. 

Tony crouched in front of Peter. “It’s okay, Peter. I know you’re in hell right now, and I know you think you can’t do this, but you can. Understand? You can get through this. What you’re feeling is an anxiety attack. They’re old friends of mine, so I know what it’s like.” He placed his hand on Peter’s chest and held Peter’s hand against it. “Feel my hand and slow it down.”

Tony wiped away Peter’s tears and then rested his other hand on Peter’s shoulder.

“That’s it, kid.” Tony’s eyes were warm and calming, his hand grounding Peter. “Just like that.”

Peter was trying. Slowly, he wrangled his breathing until it was under control, and he started feeling better. Everything ached, and he was so tired—exhausted.

Tony was still talking, comforting him. “You’re doing good, damn good.” Tony moved his hand from his chest, nudging Peter’s chin, trying to coax him to look up. “You’re doing so good, son.”

Peter’s breathing stuttered to a stop, and he couldn’t make it start again. “Son?”

Tony licked his lips with a little shrug. “I didn’t—I mean … I’m sorry.”

Peter’s lungs started working again, his body flooding with oxygen. He shook his head. “No. It’s good. It means …” He couldn’t say what it meant. It was too big for words. “They said father, but I thought it was just so you could see me.”

“That’s why they were the first people to hear it, yeah, but it’s not because of that I said it.” He squeezed Peter’s shoulder. “Peter, it’s how I feel, and I can’t change it. If you don’t want to hear it, if it’s not right after your own father and Ben, I’ll never say it again. But, yeah, you’re my kid to me.”

Another tear slipped down Peter’s cheek. “Me too.”

Tony looked relieved, rocking back a little. “Yeah?”

Peter nodded. “Thank you.”

Tony stood, patting Peter’s shoulder again. “You ready to get out of here? There’s a room waiting for you which’ll probably have cartoon characters on the wall.”

Peter laughed softly. It felt pretty good. Better than anything else he’d felt lately. “Knowing my luck, I’ll get the Iron Man room.”

Tony nudged his shoulder. “You know what, for that, I’ll make sure you do. If they don’t have one, I’ll paint you one myself. You, kid, are doomed to my face as long as you’re in this place. Feels good, right?”

Peter laughed again, though the happiness he’d felt was already dissipating.

Despite how he’d felt before, alone in his room, the thought of having Tony beside him was a good one.

He had a feeling he would need a bona fide hero on his side.

* * *

They got to the right unit, and Tony wheeled Peter right up to the nurse’s station. His thoughts were on Peter and seeing him break apart for the second time in two days. He hated watching Peter suffer, but he was glad he could be there for him. Anxiety attacks were Tony’s old friends. He knew a thing or two about them. He never wanted Peter to know what they were like, but at least Tony could be there and make sure he wasn’t alone.

He’d not thought about how it would feel for Peter to be in a chair for the first time, but he got it. It had to feel like a nightmare. Maybe he should have spoken to Rhodey about this stuff. He’d been so focused on being with Peter and working on the braces that he’d overlooked the fact his best friend could have given him an insight into what Peter would be feeling. That was something he could fix. He’d have Rhodey over and talk. Hell, he’d take notes. Anything he could say and do to help Peter, he’d do it. He wanted to know as much as he could to help him.

“Peter Parker, here for bed and breakfast,” Tony said, smiling brightly at the woman behind the desk. She eyed him, gaze flicking between him and Peter before settling back on him, probably wondering why it was Tony and not the nurse bringing Peter down.

“Peter, we’ve been expecting you.” She gave Peter an appraising look, and Tony guessed they were expecting him sooner. Tough luck. They’d stayed in the stalled elevator until Peter said he was ready to go, and that was all that mattered. “I’ll show you to your new room.”

They followed the woman to the room, and Tony wheeled Peter in. There were two beds, which made Tony stop short. The idea of Peter sharing a room hadn’t occurred to him. He’d expected him to be on his own again. He should have checked with the hospital. He could have arranged a private room. He couldn’t do that now, though, not without Peter knowing what he was doing. The kid was funny about charity, and Tony never knew what would be accepted and what wouldn’t. 

“He’s got company?” he asked pointedly.

“Not right now. Jason, the boy who was in here before, has been discharged, but there will be someone in here soon, I’m sure.

Tony checked Peter’s face. There weren’t any signs of distress, so Tony took that a win, but if it became an issue, he’d risk upsetting Peter to get him a private room.

“That okay with you, Pete?”

Peter nodded. “Yeah—yeah, it’s fine.”

“Great.”

There was a knock on the door. The man from earlier, the one who had wheeled Peter from his room, was standing in the doorway with the bag Tony had brought in yesterday. He’d forgotten when he was helping Peter escape.

“You forgot this,” the man said.

Tony rushed over and grabbed it. “Thanks,” he said, nudging him back out the door.

“How are you feeling, Peter?” the nurse asked. “Do you want to get into bed again or the chair?”

There was a big chair beside the bed. It actually looked pretty comfortable. Tony guessed it was one of those sleeper kinds they had so parents could stay with their children at night.

Peter chewed his lip, glancing up at Tony, seeming unsure. “I think—I think I’d like to sit for a while, but, uh, not in this chair?”

“No, of course not,” the nurse said. “We’ll get you into the chair and get this thing out of here.”

“You want to change first, kid?” Tony lifted the bag. “I’ve got some of your own clothes in here? Pretty sure there’s an Iron Man set of PJs.”

Peter’s smile seemed forced. “I’m good right now.”

He was wearing the gown and cotton pants the hospital provided, Tony thought he’d feel better in his own clothes, but there was something in Peter’s face that made him relent. This wasn’t a battle he needed to wage. He puzzled over it and then realized what it might be. He hadn’t actually seen Peter’s legs since this happened. The kid would need help changing, which meant either the nurse doing it or Tony helping. Maybe he wasn’t ready for that yet.

“Sure. I’ll put your stuff away. I’ve brought a few photos, too.”

He put the bag on the bed and took out the one of May and Ben. “Should I put it beside the bed?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

Tony had two other photos, one of Peter in his Halloween costume, standing by who Tony assumed to be his mother, they shared the same eyes, and he’d brought the photo of him and Peter, working in the lab. Tony set the one of him and his mother out first and then hesitated.

“You didn’t bring the one of us in the lab?” Peter asked.

Tony glanced down at the bag with a smile. “Yeah, I did.”

He pulled it from the bag and held it up. 

“At the front,” Peter said. “Beside Aunt May and Uncle Ben.”

Warmth spread through Tony's chest, and he looked at Peter, seeing the trust and love in his eyes. Tony didn’t know what he’d done to deserve it, but he would never take it for granted. He set the picture beside the other and pulled up a chair. The nurse left the room.

“Well, you didn’t get the Iron Man room after all. Luckily, you didn’t get the Cap one either. That would have needed some redecorating. You got—” Tony squinted. “I don’t know what that is. Is that talking sponge?”

“It’s SpongeBob, Mr. Stark. How do you not know who SpongeBob is?” Peter asked, then breaking into a song about pineapples under the sea. Tony just blinked at him.

“Yeah, okay, a sea sponge that lives in a pineapple? What happened to Bugs Bunny?”

“You’re showing your age.” Peter laughed, the sound warming Tony’s Heart.

“So, how was breakfast?” Tony asked.

Peter shrugged, smile fading. “I ate some. I’m still not feeling that hungry.”

“No, your stomach probably shrunk. You’ll be back to normal in no time.”

Peter looked down at his hands, where they were toying with the hem of his gown. “Yeah.”

Tony knew Peter had a lot of adjustments to make. He had a new normal to learn, but that didn’t mean it would be bad. Tony would make damn sure it was good.

“I brought a pack of cards in that bag, too. Want to play poker?”

Peter chewed his lip, pausing to open his mouth and then close it. Tony knew something was on his mind, but he didn’t want to push him, so he stayed quiet and let Peter work it out.

“Honestly, I don’t feel like doing anything. I’m just kinda … done.”

Tony could understand. He’d felt the same way after a panic attack, and Peter was already overloaded before that happened. The last few days had been eventful and probably taken a lot out of the kid.

“That’s fine. You want me to stick around? We don’t have to talk. You can plug in your MP3 player, and I’ll get to work on my inbox. I’ve been ignoring them, and I’m pretty sure Pepper is coming after my ass if I don’t start replying to people.”

“No, you can—you can stay if you want, but you don’t have to, though.”

“I _want_ to, Peter, but it’s what you want that matters in this. If you want space, tell me. I’m not saying I’ll stay gone for good, because I _know_ that won't help for long, but you’ve had a tough morning, so it’s your choice right now.”

Peter shrugged. “I think I’d like you to stay.”

Tony smiled. “Awesome, that’s something I can do.” He got the MP3 player out of his bag and tossed it to Peter. The kid caught it easily. Once Peter had it plugged in and playing music, he started composing a text to Rhodey, asking him to come over that night and be prepared for Tony to pick his brain.

He was going to use his friend’s experiences and thoughts to help his kid.


	14. Chapter 14

“And then you just dump the container in the toilet and put it away for later,” the nurse finished.

Peter was relieved it was over. He was mortified. When they’d taken away his catheter that morning, he’d thought that was over, that there was some other solution coming for him to pee, but then they’d came back in after lunch, when Tony had left, and informed him they were going to start teaching him to self-catheterize. Apparently, it was something he was going to need to do for himself a few times a day. The benefits were extolled: he wouldn’t need an in-situ catheter, so he’d have more freedom of movement and no bag attached to his leg. That all sounded great, but the thought of doing that to himself three times a day was hard to imagine. It was an aspect of paralysis he’d not considered. He could feel it starting to overwhelm him.

“We’ll send you home with a suitable container to empty into, but you can also empty straight into the toilet when you’re more experienced,” he went on. “Don’t worry about remembering everything right now. We’ll make sure you practice and go home with plenty of help.”

Peter nodded, but his mind was reeling. He was going to have to do this at home, without help. He hadn’t thought of going home, but it would happen eventually, and the apartment was small, the elevator broken. How was he supposed to get in and out? Would he be trapped inside?

His breaths started coming faster.

“Peter?” the nurse sounded anxious.

Peter squeezed his eyes closed. “I just need a minute.”

There was a pause, and he could feel him watching. Then there were footsteps on the tile, and the door opened and closed. He was alone now. He could break, and no one would see. He laid back and placed his hand on his chest. That was something Tony had done, and it had helped. But it was doing nothing now. His hand was just bobbing with each quick breath. It was starting to hurt.

He focused, trying to hear Tony’s voice and what he’d said last time. It was muddled and quiet. _“Feel my hand and slow it down.”_ Yes. That was what he’d said. Peter focused on his own hand, slowing it down. His eyes were streaming again. He couldn’t do it, it was too hard, but he needed to try. Tony had called him his son, and he needed to live up to that. Tony wasn’t weak. Iron Man was strong. Peter could be, too. 

He focused on his memory of Tony and him helping. He could hear him soothing him, guiding his panic into something calm. It helped. It was like Tony was there. His own hand on his chest felt bigger, stronger. It felt like Tony’s. He could feel himself starting to calm. It felt like he had run a marathon and stopped. He felt like he’d been beaten bloody, his muscles ached, but he was breathing better. His mind cleared, and he could think.

He opened his eyes and pushed himself upright, rubbing his chest. It wasn’t as bad as last time, but he knew it wasn’t going to be the last. He was annoyed at himself for being weak. It wasn’t going to be the last time he had to face something like that. There were probably loads of things he’d not thought about that were going to need to change. He couldn’t fall apart each time.

The door opened again, and he quickly wiped away the tears that had fallen and straightened his clothes.

A man stepped inside. Peter recognized him. It was the shrink from before—the one who Tony had thrown out of the room.

He felt like he should be on guard, but he was too tired, defeated.

“Hello again, Peter. I’m Doctor Sullivan. Do you remember speaking before?”

Peter thought speaking was a broad term for what happened last time, but he nodded.

“I heard you were having difficulty. How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.”

The doctor pulled up a chair and said, “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

Peter frowned. “What?”

“Your hands.”

Peter looked down. His hands were bunched against his legs, fingers digging in. He’d not even realized he was doing it, and it wasn’t like he could feel it.

He relaxed his hands and muttered, “Sorry.”

The doctor nodded. “Is that happening a lot?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t even realize I was doing it.”

The doctor scratched something on his notepad. “How are you really feeling, Peter?”

Peter just pressed his lips together and stared through him.

The doctor sighed. “I understand why you might not want to talk to me, but I am here to help you. I have theories on how you’re feeling, what you’re going through, but it would help me to hear it from you.” He frowned a little. “You can talk to me without worrying about upsetting others. Unless I believe you are in danger, I will not tell anyone else what you say to me. This is a safe space.”

Peter was tempted. He felt like he needed to talk to someone. It might help him. He had to learn to accept help—not just for himself, but so he could better for Tony and May.

He wanted to talk, but he needed to make himself clear from the start. He didn’t want the man getting the wrong idea and thinking he was suicidal because he wasn’t. Maybe some days, he felt impartial to living, but he wasn’t suicidal—not really. “I don’t want to hurt myself. I mean …” He gestured to his legs, where he’d been digging his fingers. “I wasn’t doing it because I wanted to, I didn’t know I was, and I won’t do it again.”

The doctor nodded, scratching something down. “That’s good. You look very tired. Have you been sleeping?”

“Yeah, maybe too much, but I was just having a little trouble with anxiety, and it got hard for a minute.”

“Is it the first time it’s happened, that you’ve had an anxiety attack?”

“No. It happened yesterday when I had to get in the wheelchair for the first time.”

“That’s understandable. It’s a traumatic experience the first time, and was there a trigger today?”

He nodded. He couldn’t tell him why, though. He was embarrassed that he broke down about peeing.

“And do you have coping mechanisms for when it does? That’s something I can help with.”

“No! My dad helped me work through it, and I did it again today.”

“Your dad?” The doctor frowned.

Peter lifted his chin, leveling his gaze on the doctor. “Yeah. My dad, Tony Stark.”

The man nodded. “Okay. That’s good. He must be a good support network for you.” He sounded like he was fishing. Peter wondered what happened when Tony dragged him out of the room.

“He is. Him and May are great.”

The doctor’s head tilted slightly, and he eyed Peter, making him shift in his chair. “How is your mood, Peter?”

He had to be honest if wanted help. “It’s not good, I’m struggling, but I’m not suicidal— _really_.” He had to make sure the doctor knew that—had to drive the point home.

“That’s good to hear. There are things I can do to help with your mood.” The doctor leaned forward. “How would you feel about taking some medication to assist your mood?”

Peter tensed. “Like sedatives?”

“No, antidepressants. A lot of people struggle with depression, of all ages, and we’re in a position now that we can do a lot to improve that with medication. How would that make you feel?”

Peter considered. He didn’t like the idea of being on pills. He wasn’t sure what Tony would think about it, though he figured May would be pleased. Being a nurse, she was more open to medication. “It will help?”

“I can make no guarantees, but there is a good chance. I can tell you that there is a better chance of improving your mood with additional help than it is battling it alone.”

He knew he should do it. “Okay. Yeah, I’ll take something.”

The doctor smiled. “You’re making the right decision, Peter, and I know it’s not an easy one. I think something else that might help you is talking therapy. That’s something we can arrange.”

Peter was unsure. Talking would mean lying, too, as he couldn’t tell them about Spider-Man, but was that really an issue anymore? He was technically Spider-Man, that had nothing to do with abilities or the suit, but he wasn’t at the same time. 

“I think it could really help you work through some of your feelings.” The doctor scratched a note down. “I’ll arrange that for you.”

“But not when my family—not when they’re here.” He wrung his hands. “And—and I’ll tell them, but I don’t want to talk in front of them.”

“Of course. That’s not how we would arrange the sessions anyway. Given your current care plan, we will fit therapies around each other. I understand you will be starting physical therapy soon, too.”

Peter knew they’d talked about it, but he didn’t know it was coming that fast. He’d figured it would take longer, but it was probably the right time. His surgical incision was almost healed, so that wasn’t holding him back.

“Okay. Yeah. Good.”

The doctor put his pen back in his pocket. “Very well. I believe your lunch will be here soon, so I will leave you in peace. I will arrange your medication to start tonight.”

“Uh. Okay, thanks,” he said, feeling a little anxious. “It’s not going to dope me up, is it? I’ll still be me.”

“You will absolutely be you. There may be side effects, and the improvement won’t be immediate, but they will come.”

Peter was relieved. He could handle it. As long as he wasn’t doped up, turned into a zombie, he could handle it. He needed to be himself for Tony and May especially. He’d already put them through so much.

He had to do better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter was a little short. The next is 4k, so it's over twice a long. We'll be dealing with the braces and physical therapy next, also Rhodey will make an appearance.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll notice we added to the tags. The summary is gonna change too soon. We've struggled to get one that encompasses all of the story. Just remember, it's a really sweet and happy ending.

The door opened, and the physical therapist that had assessed him before stepped inside, pushing a wheelchair. It was plain black and smaller than he’d expected. He’d imagined a bulky thing like he was in last time, but this was made for a kid. He felt a shock as the realization he wasn’t the only kid to be hurt like this—it happened every day, all over the country. He’d been thinking of himself. But there were younger kids out there that needed chairs, too. It made him feel guilty for a moment, and then his own feelings came to the fore again.

“Okay, Peter, you ready for this?”

No, but he couldn’t say that, so he nodded and pushed the blankets back, easing himself upright. 

“Great. In time, we’ll teach you how to get in and out of the chair yourself, but I’m going to help you today. That okay?”

“Yeah,” Peter answered, his voice small and a little unsure.

The man smiled and wheeled the chair close to the bed.

He felt a curl of panic again. It reminded him of how real and scary everything was. His breaths were hard to catch. The physical therapist busied himself, setting Peter’s feet on the rests, giving Peter time to adjust. It took a moment, but he pulled himself back under control. He glanced at the man. “What’s next?”

“Well, that depends on you. We can head to the gym and get to work on some upper body stuff, or you can use this first day to just get used to handling the chair. We can explore the hospital a little together.”

Peter considered. He preferred to stay in his room, to not be seen in the chair, but he knew he couldn’t hide forever. This was his new normal, and he had to get used to it sooner or later.

It was all so hard. He was constantly fighting between giving himself what he wanted, hiding and dealing in peace, and what he knew he needed to do. He didn’t always feel strong enough for the fight, but he wasn’t just fighting for himself. This was about his family, too.

He forced himself to be strong. “We can go to the gym.”

The physical therapist—Paul—from the badge on his chest—took the handles of the wheelchair and pushed Peter out of the door. “You’ll be able to get yourself around alone pretty soon, but your muscles are going to be a little weak right now while you’re healing from your fall and because you’ve not used them. Let me know if you want to have a go, though.”

Peter knew he should, but he wasn’t ready to find out just how weak he was. He hoped some of his Spider-Man strength was still there, that he’d still be able to do it. He wasn’t ready to find out it was gone.

“Not this time,” Peter said quietly.

“No problem,” Paul said, wheeling them down the hall.

They got to the elevator and rode up a few floors and then into a different hall. This one didn’t have patient rooms. It had rooms marked for different kinds of therapies. There was one that said hydrotherapy, which Peter had heard of. He wondered if that was something he’d be doing. It might be good to be in the water again. He liked swimming.

They reached some double doors and went into a room with gym mats, chairs, and walking apparatus like frames. There were also weight machines and parallel rails where he guessed people that weren’t as screwed as he was practiced walking again.

He reminded himself that he would be on them one day, when Tony made his braces, but then he pushed away the thought. He wasn’t ready to think about that. It was too far away and too much pressure.

“Is there anything you’d like to try?”

Peter looked around at all the equipment. There were weights, some sitting you’d use for your legs, which weren’t for him anymore, but there were free weights, too, like the ones Tony had in his gym.

“Lifting some weights?”

Paul seemed pleased. “Of course.” He went to the rack and considered the different dumbbells. He picked up one of the smallest and brought it over. He held it out to Peter and said, “It might be tough at first, but we’re not going for anything apart from what you can do. We’re finding a baseline to work up from.

Peter took it. He’d been expecting it to be much harder to lift, but he apparently still had a little Spider-Man strength, and it was easy. He was pleased. He hadn’t lost it all. Not yet.

He lifted it a few times, seeing Paul’s shock.

“Huh, your muscles are in better shape than I expected. That’s good news. You’re not starting from scratch.”

He didn’t know if he was going to get weaker as his cells were destroyed, but maybe he could build regular human strength before it was all gone.

“Want to try something a little heavier?”

“Yeah—yeah, definitely.” He was feeling good for the first time in a way that had nothing to do with anyone else. He was feeling good about himself. It was a new feeling after so long.

The weight was switched, and he lifted it again.

“This is great. Really, Peter, you’re doing well. This is all going to help you a lot.” He paused, seeming to consider something. “If you’re feeling up to it, there’s something I’d like to try.”

“Sure.” Peter was smiling now, proud of his achievements. He hoped the feeling would last.

Paul brought a medicine ball over. Peter had seen one before. Tony had a few. Paul handed it over. It was heavier, harder to hold than he expected, but he could do it. He still had enough Spider-Man in him to handle it.

Paul removed the sides of his chair, and Peter felt a bit anxious for a moment, worried he could fall out, but he took a few breaths and calmed himself.

“Great. Now, I want you to hold it out as much as you’re comfortable with and then twist your torso from lift to right, moving the ball with you, without stopping in the center. Just swing from side to side.”

Peter did it, but it was tough. It felt good, though, and he settled into a rhythm. He felt more like himself than he had in a long time.

Paul watched for a minute and then took the ball, making Peter frown.

“I can keep going,” he protested.

“You’ve done enough. You’re probably going to have sore muscles for a while from this, but it’s good. You’re building up core muscles with this, and those are what you’re going to need,” the physical therapist explained. “You’ve lost some really strong muscles now, those in your legs, so you need to build up new ones, especially those in your arms and stomach. This will build your core muscles.”

“Can I take one of these back to my room to keep going?”

Paul smiled. “No, but the fact you want to is a good sign. You’re going to need commitment and dedication. It sounds like you’ve got it. I’ll bring you back down here tomorrow to work on it.”

“Okay.” Peter’s shoulders fell. He didn’t want to stop. It had felt good stretching his muscles.

“It’s not the only kind of therapy we’ll do. How would you feel about getting in the water? We have a hydrotherapy pool in the unit that we use for a lot of paraplegic patients.”

He flinched. Paraplegic. It was the truth, but a hard word to hear.

“Sure,” Peter mumbled.

Paul looked sympathetic. “I’ll get you back to your room now, let you get some rest. I’ll be back tomorrow, though, about nine, and we’ll do an hour in here.”

So he wouldn’t be able to see Tony and May in the morning like he usually did. It was tough, but he needed to do it to get better.

“Okay.”

Paul patted him on the shoulder. “You want to try controlling the wheelchair yourself to get back? If you’re not too tired? We can switch out at any time.”

He could do this. It would help him. “Yeah, I do.”

“Great.”

He lowered his hands to the wheels of the chair and grabbed the rim handles.

It was the first time he’d driven the chair, and he knew it was the start of a long journey. Even if he got the braces, the chair was going to be part of his life. It was scary.

He turned the chair and wheeled towards the door. It was okay. It actually felt pretty good. He was moving himself. 

He had some control of where he was going at last.

* * *

Tony was heading back to the hospital, feeling better than he had in days. The braces were finally ready. He’d need to tweak them a little after Peter tried them on. He’d refine them and make them more streamlined, but these ones were a good starting point. Rhodey had advised him to get the physical therapist’s advice before bringing them in, though. He’d take care of that soon.

He went straight to Peter’s ward, but he saw May standing outside his room. Worry began trickling through his veins.

“What’s going on? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. He’s just busy right now. He’s got someone in there with him.”

“Someone like who?”

She bit her lip, chewing it for a moment before answering, “Just a doctor.”

“What are they doing?”

“Talking,” she said, and he was about to ask for details, but she continued speaking. “We need to change a few things, Tony. I’ve already talked to Peter about it, and he understands, but he’s going to need you more.”

Tony’s brows knit together. “You know I’ll be here as much as I can, but why?”

“I’ve got to start working again. The bills are backing up, and the rent’s due. We’ve scraped by on the small amount of savings I had.” She looked away. “What I was saving for Peter, so he could go to college, but it’s gone.”

“May, you know that none of that is an issue. You don’t need to be working right now. I can help you out, and college—”

She held up a hand, silencing him. “No. I know what you’re saying, but Peter won’t have it. You don’t think I already said this to him? I didn’t ever want to take your money, not for now or his college, but he won’t even consider it. I _want_ to be here with him, I don’t want to be working all those hours, but he’s stubborn, and I can’t go against him. He’s lost so much now. He’s struggling. All he’s got is his pride. I won’t take that away from him.”

Tony felt a stab of disappointment, he wanted to help, but he knew she was right. Peter was willing to take the things Tony made for him, like that MP3 player and his suit, but he wouldn’t accept money. It was rare gift that Peter had let him buy the odd sandwich.

He had big plans for Peter’s future. He wanted to see him go to the best college and have a bright future, but there was no way Peter would accept the money it required. He’d been toying with the idea of creating some kind of anonymous scholarship for him, but he’d struggled with his conscience about it. If Peter ever found out, there would be hell to pay.

It had taken long enough to get Peter to relax in the penthouse, to help himself to a snack when he wanted. That was a cakewalk compared to making him take money now.

“Okay. I get it. Yeah, I’ll be here if and when he needs me—even when he doesn’t. I promise he won’t be alone for a minute longer than he has to be.”

She sighed, seeming to relax. “Thank you, Tony. I’m going to pick up as many night shifts as I can, so I’ll sleep first then have the late afternoon and evening with him. He’s not going to need you here as much as before anyway.”

Tony was surprised by that and a little worried. “Why not?”

“He started physical therapy today, and that’ll be happening most days, and he’s got this other doctor coming in.”

“You going to tell me what this other doctor is doing?”

“No.”

Tony sighed, scrubbing a hand over his mouth. “Okay. Where is this physical therapy guy located? I want to talk to him. I’ve got something set up for Peter, the braces, and Rhodey said I should get the go-ahead before bringing them to Peter.”

“You made them already?” May’s eyebrows shot up.

“Yeah, I’ve been working on them when I’ve not been here.”

“When do you sleep?”

It was a fair question, and he knew he was sleeping just about as much as her. “I think we’re both on the same schedule.”

“You got me there, but we’ve both got to do better now. We need to take care of ourselves, so we can take care of him. I know it feels like it’s already been tough, but Peter is probably going to need us even more soon. Once he really gets going in PT, it’s going to be hard on him. He’ll be faced with the limits he’s got now. He’s been taught about some personal care today, and my friend tipped me off that it was hard on him after.”

Tony wished he’d been there after as he imagined how it could have gone. He wondered what the personal care was, but he figured it could have been a few things. Rhodey had told him yesterday, pulling no punches, the kinds of things Peter was going to need to learn to do for himself—things most people took for granted. Apparently, even going to the bathroom was a completely new thing to deal with.

“The therapist’s name is Paul Rand. He’s up on the third floor. You’ll find directions outside the elevator.”

“Thanks.”

Tony went to the elevators, easily locating the physical therapy unit. Stopping at the desk, he asked a woman in Daffy Duck scrubs where to find this Paul guy.

“He’s in the gym, cleaning up after the last session.”

Tony thanked her, then followed the signs to the gym. He looked around, taking in the equipment. It wasn’t as nice as the gym at the tower, but it was pretty good. Some of the equipment he didn’t have, though. He made a mental note to get a list of things Peter would need and order it. Rhodey could help, too.

“Can I help you?” a man in navy blue scrubs said, walking toward him.

Tony checked the name on the badge and then nodded. “I’m Peter Parker’s father,” he said, enjoying the feeling of saying it aloud, “and I need some advice. I’ve got something set up for Peter, so he can walk, but my buddy said I should talk to you about it before bringing them in for him.”

Paul held up a hand. “You’ve got something so Peter can walk?” His brows were practically touching his hairline. “You know the extent of his injury, don’t you?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Of course, I know, since he’s _my_ kid.”

“Then you’ll know walking is now an impossibility for him.”

“Now, with what I’ve made him, it isn’t.” Tony crossed his arms. “You’ve heard of Colonel Rhodes, right? War Machine. Do you know what he can do now?”

“I’ve heard there has been some improvement in his situation, but his injury and Peter’s, from what I’ve heard, were in different places, and that has an impact on Peter’s prognosis, even with your … _inventions_.”

Tony had to bite his tongue to keep himself from saying something he would regret. He was angry. This guy was supposed to be helping Peter, and yet here he was shitting on Tony’s ideas before he even heard them. Obviously, he had no idea what Tony could do.

“I’d be interested in seeing your invention, of course, but it will need careful assessment before we can—”

Tony shook his head, holding up a hand. It took all his willpower not to punch the guy in the teeth. “I got it. You’re one of _those_ kinds. I know when my ideas aren’t welcome. I’ll get out of your hair. I’m sure you’ve got some other kid’s hopes to crush, but I will be back, and next time, I will bring proof.”

He stormed out of the gym, marching through the hospital to the parking lot and then taking a few breaths, calming himself down. He took out his phone and called Rhodey. Tony didn’t let him get more than a hello out before he cut him off. “Rhodey, I need your help. Get yourself to the hospital now.”

“Are you okay? Is _Peter?”_

“He’s the same. I need you, though, and bring your best strut. We’ve got an asshole to teach a lesson to.”

“Okay. I’m on my way.”

“I’m waiting outside. Be quick.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Rhodey asked.

“I’m pissed and fighting hard not to suit up and scare the piss out of the man I’m supposed to trust with my kid, but if you can do what I need you to do, it’ll all be fine.”

“Okay.” Rhodey sounded doubtful, and then Tony head an engine come to life. “I’m leaving now. We’ll handle this.”

“Thanks, Rhodey.”

He ended the call and pressed the phone to his forehead. He needed to get a handle on his anger and deal with this problem. It was just another one to face for Peter. And he would.

He could do this.

* * *

Rhodey was a step behind him, trying to keep up. “You going to tell me what’s going on?”

“No, but I’ll show you. You just need to do your thing, show what you’re capable of, and we’ll be good,” Tony explained.

“And what exactly is it I can do?”

Tony turned, letting him catch up. He patted his shoulder. “You, my friend, can walk.”

“We’re not going to see Peter, are we? Tone, from what you’ve said about him, I don’t think now’s the time for me to see him and give him a pep talk about the future. He’s not ready for that.”

“No, I know that he’s not ready, though I wish he was. This is about proving a point.”

They reached the physical therapy unit, and Tony marched to the gym. It was empty. “Damn.”

Rhodey was looking around, impressed. “This place is good. Hell, it’s got more gear than the VA place I was in for rehab. Peter will make out great here.”

“He will,” Tony said, pursing his lips. “As long as his physical therapist doesn’t kick all the fight out of him.”

“What do you mean?”

Tony huffed. “I was telling him about what I made for you, I’ve got them ready for Peter, almost, they just need to be fitted right, but he shoved sand in my face, telling me they won’t work for him. If he’s saying stuff like that to Peter—” He cut himself with a head shake, his anger bubbling back up.

“Ahh. Well, he’s probably not doing that to Peter. PT guys are all about hope, but they keep it level with reality. It’s a hard balance. If they set people up to think they can do more than they’re physically capable of, they’re in for a fall. They’re harder on family than they are the patients. They’ve got to manage other people’s expectations, so they’re not expecting more of the people they love,” Rhodey said, and then shook his head lightly. “Honestly, Tony, he’s probably been more supportive than you realize.”

Rhodey’s words helped calm Tony, and he felt a little better. Maybe Rhodey was right. This Paul guy might not be as useless as Tony had thought, but if he heard one word of discouragement to his kid, Tony would stop at nothing to replace him. He’d use all his money and influence to see that Peter got the best.

They went back into the hall, and Tony saw the physical therapist from earlier approaching. He was holding a coffee and had a clipboard under his arm. He looked worried when he saw Tony, then slightly surprised when his eyes landed on Rhodey.

Tony marched up to him. “Paul, this is Colonel James Rhodes. War Machine.”

“I’m familiar, yes. It’s an honor to meet you, sir.”

Tony nodded to Rhodey and said, “Show him what you’ve got.”

Rhodey tugged up his pants leg to show the braces. These were the sleekest of the designs Tony had made. They let Rhodey wear them under his clothes.

Paul bent to examine them. “And you can walk with them?”

Tony snorted. “You think he’s remote-controlled right now? You saw him walking.”

“That’s very impressive.”

Rhodey nodded. “It is. Tony is a genius.”

“Apparently.” Paul straightened. “Which vertebrae was injured?”

“L3.”

Paul sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Then I was right that your situation is different from Peter’s. His break is at T12. The prognosis is different.”

Tony scowled. “They both broke their backs. They both have no movement below the waist, and they both have good upper body strength.”

“Peter does have good upper body strength compared to what I expected, but there will be differences in what he is capable of compared to Mr. Rhodes.”

“ _Colonel_ Rhodes,” Tony said sharply.

Rhodey squeezed Tony’s arm. “Obviously, the situations are different, but there is no reason Peter can’t try with the braces, is there? He’s just a kid. If he can be walking, too, that’d be huge for him.”

“We can absolutely try, but not until I feel Peter is ready. He needs to build upper body strength first. I imagine that is a large part of the way you’re able to walk now.”

Rhodey licked his lips, nodding a few times. “Yeah, it’s a part of it, yes.”

“Then, we will continue with Peter’s current care plan for now and reassess when I feel we’re ready.”

Tony glared daggers at the guy. “Tell me something, are you this damn hard on my kid when he’s here? Do you give him the same crap?”

Rhodey put a hand on Tony’s chest. “Easy, Tones.”

“No. With Peter, I encourage with what I believe is possible. I don’t give false hope, though. It’s important to manage expectations with paralysis patients, but it’s also important to motivate.”

Tony nodded. “Good. Make sure you do. If I hear you’re giving him this same crap”—he pointed at him—“I will have you fired before you can blink, understand?”

The man’s expressions hardened. “Mr. Stark, you need to understand—”

Rhodey cut in. “He understands, just like you understand how difficult his situation is right now. We _know_ you will do the right thing by Peter, make _sure_ you encourage him.” Tony heard the threat in his words. Rhodey was playing it down, but he obviously felt some of Tony’s anger. “And when we _all_ feel it’s time, we’ll try the braces.”

The man nodded. He seemed warier of Rhodey than he was Tony. There was something commanding about him that didn’t rely on a metal suit. Maybe it was the military thing. Whatever it was, Tony figured Paul had gotten the message.

“I think we’re done here, Rhodey.”

Rhodey smiled. “Yeah. we’re done.”

They walked out, letting the door close behind them.

“Thanks for that, man,” Tony said. “You did better than me in there. I could have knocked his teeth in and smiled doing it.”

“I know, I saw it coming, but he will do right by Peter. It’s like I said, he’s just wary of overdoing his expectations, so you can help Peter do the same.” Rhodey checked his watch.

“You got somewhere you need to be?”

“I do, and you do, too. Get up to Peter, spend some time with your kid. Call if you need me again.”

Tony squeezed Rhodey’s elbow, conveying his thanks, and headed off in a hurry. With that asshole dealt with, he could focus on Peter for the rest of the day.


	16. Chapter 16

Peter was sitting in the large, comfy chair in his room. Tony sat beside him in a less comfortable looking chair. Peter had the MP3 player going, and Tony was fiddling with his phone again. They weren’t talking, but Peter didn’t mind. The day had been a struggle, and the quiet was nice. He’d had a hard session in PT that left his arms and chest sore, but it was worth it. He felt like he was helping himself somehow instead of just lying there and watching life slip past.

He picked up his glass of water and sipped it, wetting his lips. His mouth was dry again, and the water only helped a little. They said it was a side-effect of the Prozac they’d put him on, along with nausea. The doctor had suggested he suck on ice chips to help. That was something he could do on his own, but it would look strange to Tony, and he didn’t want to raise any flags.

Drinking so much water had another side effect, though, a slightly embarrassing one. He’d have to empty his bladder again, and he still hadn’t quite gotten the hang of doing it alone, so someone had to watch which was mortifying. At least it wasn’t Tony watching. He didn’t think he could bear that.

The door opened, and Tony looked up from his phone, brow furrowed.

A kid was being wheeled in by a nurse, followed by a young woman with a bag in her hands. Peter observed as the kid was brought to the bed.

The boy turned to Peter, grinning widely. “Hi, I’m Harrison.”

Peter was wary, but May raised him to be polite. He smiled back. “Peter.”

“Harrison is your new roommate, Peter.”

Tony watched Peter closely, and Peter had to be careful to hide his emotions. He wasn’t happy about the idea of sharing, but he couldn’t show that and upset the kid. He seemed nice enough, and if the wheelchair was anything to go by, he already had problems of his own.

Peter was shocked when the kid was lifted out of the chair and settled in the bed. His legs hanging useless, just like Peter’s did, which meant he was paralyzed, too.

He thought about how hard it must be to be that young and be stuck in a chair. Peter was sixteen and struggling. This kid was at least a few years younger than him.

The kid was settled, and his mom sat beside him on the edge of the bed. She took a bunch of coloring books and crayons out of the bag and set them on the table in front of the boy.

The kid ignored them and looked at Peter, eyes searching. Peter didn’t like the feeling of being studied like he was on display. He wished he was back in bed, so he could pretend to sleep and avoid the whole thing.

Tony seemed to sense the problem as he cleared his throat and said, “You want to head out for a while, Pete? You could have a ride out to the coffee cart. I’ll buy you a donut.”

Peter was tempted, but that meant Tony would see him being transferred into the chair, the way his legs hung useless, and he’d avoided that so far. He knew Tony wouldn’t care, that it wouldn't change anything, but Peter didn't want it yet.

“No, I’m good.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Harrison asked.

The boy’s mother scolded him. “Harri, that’s rude!” She turned to Peter. “I’m sorry. He’s always been inquisitive, and I think he’s made it his mission since we arrived to find out the diagnosis of everyone in the hospital.”

“It’s fine,” Peter said, careful not to show pain in his voice. “I had a fall and hurt my back.”

“Paralyzed?” the kid asked.

“Harrison!”

“It’s okay. Yeah, I am.”

“Me too,” Harrison said brightly. “We had a car crash when I was seven, and we flipped.” He grinned like he wasn’t talking about how he lost the use of his legs. “It was pretty cool, but my back got broke, so I’m in a chair now. I had to come back because they’re doing something, so I can poop without the bag.”

His mother was apologetic and shushing Harrison, but Peter was listening now. When he’d needed the toilet, he’d had to use a bedpan. He thought that sucked, but the idea of having a poop bag stuck to him like his neighbor Mr. Rosetti had before he died would be much worse.

“That sounds good,” Peter said.

“Yeah. It’ll be great. That thing sucks.” He finally turned his attention from Peter to Tony and stared at him for a moment. “I know you.”

Tony smirked. “I don’t think so, kid.”

Harrison beamed. “No! I do. You’re Iron Man! I saw you on the news after the aliens came to New York when I was six.” He looked a little abashed, “I wasn’t s’posed to watch the news because I was too young, but grandpa let me when he babysat.” He grinned again. “I’m eleven now, and I can watch the news, but I don’t like to. It’s only good when the Avengers are on, and you’re not on that much.”

“We’re not,” Tony agreed. “You like Iron Man?”

“Yeah, he’s cool. I like Spider-Man better, though. I saw him one time. He was chasing a mugger when I was getting off the school bus, and he ran right past my chair!”

Peter froze. He hadn’t expected that. He thought he remembered that patrol. The guy had snatched the purse of a woman on her way home from work. He remembered flying by the school bus. He’d caught the mugger, webbed him up, but he’d not noticed the kid.

Was that because he was on a mission at the time, focused, or was it because the kid was in a chair? Had he averted his eyes automatically so as not to stare, or was it just coincidence? Were people going to avert their eyes from him when he was in the chair?

He had to stop thinking about this stuff. He could feel everyone watching him. He was starting to freak out. His breaths were coming too quick. Tony squatted in front of him. Peter tried to ask for help, but he couldn’t find the words. It felt like his throat was closing. What could Tony do, anyway? He couldn’t empty the room for him.

Tony’s palm pressed against his cheek, and he was whispering, “You want to get out of here now? Will it help?”

Peter nodded, unable to talk.

“Okay.” Tony straightened up and went to get the chair. “Me and Peter are going to get a sugar fix. You want anything brought back for you?” He was talking to the kid’s mother.

“A coffee would be great if you don’t mind.”

“Donut or anything?” Tony asked as he got Peter into the chair.

Peter didn’t even care that Tony was holding him, his useless legs dangling. He just wanted to get out of there.

“Donut!” Harrison all but shouted excitedly.

The mother laughed. “Just this once, but maybe just a glaze. He’s not good with the additives in food colorings. Makes him even crazier than he usually is.”

The kid laughed and made a face. “Yeah, real crazy.”

Tony was laughing, but it sounded forced. He wheeled Peter out of the room.

Peter felt better once they were out. The walls didn’t feel like they were closing in, and his throat was opening up. It was easier to breathe. He was thankful to have avoided a full meltdown. He was becoming too familiar with those.

When they got to the ground floor, Tony wheeled him to a spot by some free seats. He didn’t squat, which Peter was grateful for, he sat beside him instead. He didn’t want even more people staring. He didn’t want to look, but he could feel their eyes on him. It didn’t occur to him that it was probably Tony they were looking at. Even before Iron Man, Tony was pretty famous.

“How are you doing?”

Peter drew a breath through his nose. “I’m okay. Sorry I freaked out. It was just…”

“A shock. I know.”

It wasn’t just that. It wasn’t like he’d never heard people talking about Spider-Man like that before. Hell, he’d heard it from Flash how amazing he was, but that had always been kinda funny as he was telling Peter how much he sucked in comparison. This was about the fact he’d not seen that kid before, and it had made him question himself and his future.

“Yeah. I guess.”

“But you handled it. You beat the attack back. That’s big, kid. I’ve never been able to do it.”

Peter wondered if it was the medication that had helped. He couldn’t tell Tony about it, but he hoped it was. They said it would take a few weeks to really help, so that meant it would get even easier to handle as time progressed.

“Yeah. That’s great,” Peter said.

Tony leaned back in his chair. “So, you’re out of the room, what do you want to do? I figure we can get away with half an hour before your new roommate starts screaming for sugar. You want to get some fresh air?”

Peter didn’t want to go outside. Too many people. Too much space. “Tony, I’m wearing pajamas.”

Tony appraised him. “I think those are technically sweats, so you can get away with it.”

“No. Let’s just get the kid his donut. His mom will probably be hearing about it until we get back.”

Tony nodded. “He seems like a good kid, but you don’t have to share a room if you don’t want to. I can arrange for you to have a private one again.”

Peter bristled, and strangely, Tony looked pleased. Peter wondered what he was seeing. “No, I’ll be fine.”

“Great. Hang here, and I’ll get the caffeine and sugar. Anything special for you?”

“A soda and donut, please, but just a glaze. I don’t want the kid seeing me with one with sprinkles.”

“I can get you two? You can get the sprinkle for now and a nice, responsible glaze for when you get back.” Tony looked so pleased with himself that it made Peter laugh.

“No, glaze is fine.”

“You’re a hero, kid, saving a mother from a tantrum.”

Tony went to get the stuff, and Peter was left alone. He thought about what Tony said. Was he a hero? Was he ever? He was Spider-Man, still was in a way, but he wasn’t like the Avengers.

He wasn’t like Tony, but he had the man on his side. That helped more than Peter could tell him yet.

* * *

Peter was tired, but he couldn’t sleep. He had his earbuds in and was listening to music. Harrison was on his bed, doing something on his tablet. Despite closing his eyes and trying to focus on the music, sleep wouldn’t come. Everything felt too busy in his mind—too crowded.

Tony had stayed all afternoon, and May had come by before she’d started her night shift. They’d chatted easily with Harrison, and his mother, who they learned was called Molly. He’d felt awkward, though. He couldn’t relax with the strangers in the room. He was going to have to get used to it, though, as Harrison wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Between his surgery and recovery, Peter wouldn’t be surprised if he was there for a week.

Part of him regretted not taking Tony up on the offer of a private room, but he hadn’t wanted to take his money. Tony had already done so much for him. Besides, it didn’t feel fair either. Why should he get special treatment?

He tried to roll over, away from Harrison, but he couldn’t manage it without a lot of work, still not used to manhandling his legs. He didn’t like touching them. They felt dead and unnatural. It was unsettling.

Harrison laughed softly, and Peter covered his exposed ear with his arm and buried the other in his pillow. The stress was starting to get to him. Then he felt a strange twitching sensation on his stomach, right where he began to feel things. He opened his eyes and looked down to see the blankets were moving. His leg was moving, tugging the blanket.

He felt a rush of happiness, joy. The doctors were wrong. His leg was moving. He struggled to sit up, using the bed controls, and tugged back the blankets.

His right thigh was jerking and jumping like he was being electrocuted. It was weird to see, but it was moving, which meant everything.

“Oh, wow.” He started to laugh, happy tears springing to his eyes.

Harrison set down his tablet and looked over. “Oh, that sucks.”

“No. Look at it,” Peter said excitedly. “It’s moving.”

Harrison looked surprisingly old for someone so young, sympathetic. “It’s not happened before?”

Peter shook his head, beaming. “I can’t feel it, but…”

“You won’t feel it. It’s just muscles twitching.”

“I know but look.”

Harrison looked like he wanted to say something and then pressed his call button. The door opened after a moment. Peter was still staring down at the jerking pants leg, feeling great.

The nurse came in, going to Harrison’s bed. “Harrison, you okay?”

“Peter’s got the twitches.”

Peter looked up, face shining. “It’s moving.”

“Oh. I see.” The nurse looked sad. “It’s called muscular spasticity, Peter, or spastic hypertonia. It’s common in some kinds of spinal injuries, though less so in complete paralysis. The messages are still coming from your brain down your spine, but the nerves aren’t able to process them, which is causing the spasm.”

The nurse’s explanation crashed into Peter, crushing his fragile hope and leaving him devastated. He didn’t want to break, didn’t want to fall apart, but it was a struggle to hold himself together. He couldn’t fall apart in front of Harrison, though. It was embarrassing enough when he did it in front of Tony and May. 

“Will it stop?”

“Yep,” Harrison chirped. “I just ignore it till it goes away.” He shrugged. “It always does.”

Peter turned his face away.

“Can I get you anything?” the nurse asked.

“No. I’m okay.”

The nurse slipped out, leaving them alone. Peter was struggling, and feeling Harrison’s eyes on him wasn’t helping. He wanted to tell the kid to stop staring, to leave him alone, but the words didn’t come out. The kid had looked so young before, but now he looked far older, sympathetic, and wise.

“You got a wheelchair yet?” Harrison asked.

“No. I mean, I’ve been in one a couple times, but I don’t have one of my own. I don’t think so anyway.” The ones he’d been using were all stamped with the hospital logo.

“You picked one out?”

“You pick them out?”

Harrison’s eyes brightened. “Yeah! My first was black with flames on the wheels, and the one after was blue with spirals on the wheels, so they made people dizzy when I went too fast.” He grinned. “I keep growing, so they keep giving me new ones. It’s great. The one I’ve got at home now has a motor which is cool, but it doesn’t go as fast as I can go on my own. And I can’t do tricks.”

Harrison flexed his arms. “When I’m older, I’ll get one I can do myself again, and then I’ll go much faster. I’m stronger than all my friends already, but when I’m grown, I’ll be able to go even faster. I want to play basketball, too, but they don’t have a team for kids yet. I’m still waiting.”

Peter found himself smiling. The kid was so enthusiastic. He wondered if it was because he’d been living in the chair longer or if he was just a sunny personality. Would Peter ever find that kind of excitement about choosing a wheelchair? He _was_ going to need one. He wouldn’t be able to wear the braces all the time.

“I’ll ask about it.”

“I can help you pick if you like. Or…” The kid grinned, his eyes twinkling. “You could have Iron Man make you one! He’d make an awesome one. He made his suit, and mom says he’s a genius. I bet he could make you one that goes _really_ fast.”

Peter was already relying on Tony to make braces, but he could just picture the chair Tony would design—something fast and super-powered. Peter could just picture himself crashing into a wall at high speed. He didn’t need more injuries on top of a broken back. 

Harrison looked a little embarrassed. “How do you know Iron Man? Is he really your dad? I heard him say it.”

“He’s not my real father—but pretty close. My real father died when I was little, plane crash, but Mr. Stark, Tony, he’s kinda like my dad now, yeah.”

“Wow. That must be so cool. Does that mean you know all the Avengers? Do you know Captain America?”

“I’ve met some.” He thought of Cap and what happened at the airport in Germany. He’d definitely met them and had some stories to tell. “They’re cool.”

Harrison looked hopeful. “Have you met Spider-Man?”

Peter froze for a moment and then realized he could give Harrison something here in return for what he gave him, a distraction and a smile. “I have, yeah.”

“What’s he like?”

“He’s pretty great.” It felt strangely good to say. “He would like you a lot.”

“You think?” Harrison was vibrating with excitement.

“I know. You’re just the kind of person he likes. You’re kind and brave.”

“Brave?”

“Yeah. Brave. You’re having surgery, right, but you’re so calm?” He shared a little honesty. “I’ve been here for a while now, and I’ve spent it all freaking out and being kinda an”—he couldn’t say asshole, but it was the truth—“a jerk because I’ve been scared, but you’re amazing. You’re not scared at all. Spider-Man would be scared.”

Harrison looked pleased. “Surgery isn’t so bad, and it’ll be better for me after. I go to sleep, wake up sore, and then I won’t need the bag anymore. I’ll be able to go to the potty alone.” He blushed a little. “It kinda sucks when your mom has to do it.”

“Yeah, I bet, but that’s what I mean. You’re dealing with it all so well. I’ve been kinda a baby about it all.”

Harrison shrugged. “It’s not like we’ve got a choice in it. You and me, we’re in the chairs. That can suck, yeah, but we get to do stuff other people can’t. They can’t run as fast as me when I get rolling, so I win the races, and they don’t get to pick out cool chairs to use.”

Peter nodded. “And that’s what Spider-Man would see in you.”

Harrison grinned. “I guess. Hey! If you know him, you think I can meet him, too?”

Peter was a little sad. That was the one thing he couldn’t do for the kid. Spider-Man in a wheelchair wasn’t worth meeting. “I don’t know, he’s kinda shy about stuff like that, and he’s got to keep his secret. I think you already saw the best part of him. You got to see him fighting crime. I’ve never seen that.”

“Yeah, I did.”

Peter had an idea. He couldn’t tell Harrison who he was, but that didn’t mean Peter couldn’t write him a letter.

Harrison rolled onto this side, showing no sign of minding shifting his own legs the way Peter did. “Tell me more about him.”

Peter sighed. “Okay, well, he’s fast, but you’ve seen that already, and he really loves helping people. Like I said, he’d think you were awesome. I know one thing, he could never handle a chair the way you did. Spider powers wouldn’t help with that.”

“Yeah. Cool.” Harrison yawned. He was starting to look tired.

“You should get some sleep.”

“So should you. Your twitches have stopped.”

Peter hadn’t noticed. He’d been so absorbed in what Harrison was saying, how good it had felt, that he’d forgotten what had been bothering him.

“Yeah, we both should.”

He settled himself back and rolled to his side, moving his legs himself and not caring as much as he thought he would.

“Night, Harrison.”

“Night, Peter.”

He closed his eyes and began to drift off. He was feeling better now, almost good.

When he slept, he didn’t dream of falling. He dreamt of being in the suit and running with Harrison. The kid was laughing, and they both were free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so did you like Harrison? You'll be seeing him a little more.


	17. Chapter 17

Tony was hurrying along the hall, eager to see Peter. He stopped when he got to the room, hearing something unfamiliar, but oh so welcome. It was laughter, and it sounded a hell of a lot like Peter’s laugh. He had stopped thinking it was possible. He’d not heard him laugh in forever.

He eased open the door and was amazed to see Peter doubled up laughing, tears rolling down his face. Harrison was laughing, too.

He just stood there and stared for a moment, feeling so good. It was like walking into a dream.

Peter looked up, wiping his face. “Oh. Hey.”

Amazed and happy, Tony smiled. “Okay, kids, I’ve got to ask, what’s the joke.”

Peter’s lips twitched up. “We were just talking.”

“About?”

Peter looked down, a blush touching his cheeks.

“Peeing and pooping,” Harrison said shamelessly.

“Oh.” Tony was surprised, but he also felt a little stupid. He still didn’t know how Peter was handling that aspect of his life now. The kid never mentioned it. The curious part of him wanted to know, but it didn’t seem like the right time to ask.

Luckily, Harrison answered for him. “I’m still on the bag, but Peter used the potty today on his own.”

Peter’s blush deepened. “Seriously, Harri, we’re talking about this?”

Harrison shrugged. “Why not? It’s a big deal, and you didn’t have to do it with your mom watching like I did. You’re lucky. I can’t wait until I can do it alone.” He looked a little wistful.

Peter brightened. “Just a few more days, and you’ll be able to. That bag will be off for the last time.”

“Yep.” The boy grinned.

Tony grabbed a seat, absorbing the good feeling in the room. It was great after so much pain. Peter looked good—happy. He’d not seen him like this in so long. There was still something in his eyes, a shadow, but he was doing better, and that was more than enough for him now.

“Hey! Mr. Stark! Look what I got!” Harrison was waving a piece of paper in front of him. “Spider-Man was here!”

Tony was puzzled and gave Peter a look, who shook his head and explained. “Yeah, while Harrison was out getting tests done, Spider-Man dropped by. He was looking for you, but when I told him about Harrison, he wanted to meet him. He couldn’t stay though as he heard about something going on that he needed to deal with—”

“He’s so busy,” Harrison inserted. “Heroes are always busy.”

“But he wrote a note for Harrison,” Peter went on.

Harrison waved it again. “He said I sound awesome and way braver than him. He says he’s sorry he didn’t stop to say hey when I saw him, but he remembers me. He had to keep going because the bad guy was getting away. He said—” He got really excited. He was practically vibrating. “He said I should get spider web wheels for my chair and that you could probably help me with that.” Harrison leveled a pleading look on Tony. “Do you think you can?”

“Panels for the spokes,” Peter explained.

Tony had to absorb it for a moment. Peter did this for the kid, and it’d obviously had a huge effect on him. The kid was thrilled. It was just the kind of thing Peter would have done once, and it was like seeing a little of the old Peter shining through.

“I can absolutely help with that, Harrison. I’ll speak to your mom and get some measurements for your chair.”

“You think you can do something for the motor, too?” Harrison asked eagerly. “Like make it go faster?”

Peter gave his head an imperceptible shake.

“You know, kid, I’d love to do that, but I think it might make things a little dangerous. I’m not good at moderation.”

“That’s for damn sure,” Peter said with a smirk.

“And I think you’d end up with something that would plow through the store, leaving devastation in its wake.”

Harrison laughed. “Yeah, maybe, but wheels would be cool. Can you make them blue and red like Spider-Man’s suit with white webs?”

“What about some flames, too?” Peter suggested.

Harrison considered. “No. I think Spider-Man wheels would be cool enough without fire.” He shivered a little. “I am going to have _the_ coolest chair in the world.” 

“You will. I promise.”

The nurse came into the room. “Harrison, it’s time for your pre-op scan.”

Harrison pushed back his blankets and managed to get himself to the side of the bed. He seemed to have so much more movement than Peter. Tony hadn’t seen him do any of that stuff. He wasn’t sure if it was because he couldn’t or just didn’t want to.

She got Harrison into the chair and wheeled him to the door, pausing to look over her shoulder. “I’ll be right back with your meds, Peter, and you’ve got Mr. Johnson coming in in half an hour.”

Peter looked a little wary. “Can I skip it today? Tony’s just got here.”

Tony didn’t know who Mr. Johnson was, but he assumed it wasn’t too important. If it was, Peter or May would have said something. He’d come in early to spend some extra time with Peter. It wasn’t a big deal to hang around while he did whatever he needed. Maybe he could go get coffee and shoot off a few emails.

The nurse frowned. “You can, but do you think it’s a good idea?”

Peter sighed, slumping back into the pillow. “No.”

She smiled. “I’ll bring your meds right back.”

The nurse wheeled Harrison out of the room. Once the door closed, Tony turned to Peter. “A letter from Spider-Man, huh?”

Peter shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. “He wanted to meet him, and that’s obviously not going to happen, so I figured a letter would work.”

“Sounds like it definitely worked. You did good,” Tony said, earning a smile from Peter. A few seconds passed before Tony put a voice to the question in his mind. “What’s with the meds? You in pain?”

Peter ducked his head, toying with the hem of his shirt. “No, nothing like that.”

Tony could see that he was hiding something, and he wanted to know what. Nothing good ever came from Peter hiding things. He watched Peter as he seemed to chew over his thoughts, emotions flitting across his face. Tony stayed quiet, letting him work through. Pushing him wouldn’t help.

Peter took a deep breath, glancing up at Tony and then back to his hands. “They’ve got me on this medication to help me, I don’t know, feel better?”

At first, Tony was confused, but after a second, the words clicked into place, and he knew what Peter meant. They’d put him on antidepressants. It wasn’t what Tony had wanted, but this wasn’t about him, and they obviously worked. He was doing better. Tony could admit when he was wrong, and this time he had been. He felt like an asshole for making Peter admit it, rather than letting him have his privacy. 

“That’s good.” Tony nodded.

Peter’s eyebrows shot up. “It is?”

“Well, it seems to be helping.”

“Yeah, it is. It’s not perfect, and it still gets bad, but I had a hard time last night but didn’t have a meltdown. I think that’s partly because of the pills.” Peter paused, chewing his lip before going on. “And I’m talking to someone now. This therapist. They’re helping me with these … tools, I guess. I know you probably don’t like it, I mean you kicked the shrink out, but I figured I should try.” He kept his gaze on his hands, licking his lips. “It was too hard before.”

Tony reached out, brushing Peter’s hair back. “What I did with the shrink was wrong. He was there to help you. I was just worried about what they’d see and do to you. I was obviously wrong. Whatever they’re doing now is helping you, and that’s all I wanted to do. Yeah, I wish I could have helped you myself, but whatever it takes is what matters. Hell”—he laughed—“I tried therapy myself once. It didn’t go that well.”

Peter chanced a look at him. “What happened?”

“Well, I kinda recruited Bruce to be my therapist, and I guess I wasn’t as interesting as I thought I was. He fell asleep on me.”

A laugh burst out of Peter. “Wow. Poor Doctor Banner. You know he’s not that kind of doctor, right?”

“That’s what he said.” Tony laughed. “Yours sounds much better.”

“He is. It’s not some magic wand, though I wish it was, but talking it out, not being seen as a freak for the things I’m thinking and feeling, helps.”

Tony dropped his hand onto Peter’s shoulder. “You can talk to me and May about it. We’ll always listen.” He realized after the words left his mouth that he was being selfish, wanting to be the one to help Peter. 

“I can, but I don’t want to. Not because I don’t trust you. I do, totally, but because I’m already taking enough from you both. I don’t want to add all my extra issues.”

Tony squeezed his shoulder. “Your issues are our issues. You don’t have to talk to us if you don’t want to, but don’t hold back for our sakes. We can handle whatever it is you say. We might not know the answers like your therapist, but we’ll listen.”

Peter gave him a small smile. “Yeah. Thanks, Tony. I appreciate it. And…” He glanced back down at his hands and then shyly back at Tony. “I’m sorry I’ve been such an asshole since my accident.”

The kid had been anything but an asshole, at least in Tony’s opinion. He was handling things better than most people could. Even if he had been the world’s biggest asshole, it wouldn’t have mattered. Tony would still have been there for him.

“You were never an asshole. Sure, you were going through something tough, and you weren’t yourself.” And you still aren’t, he didn’t say. “The only thing that bothered me and May was that we couldn’t take the pain in your place. We would have if we could, in a heartbeat. Nothing you said or did bothered us for any other reason than that because it was hurting you.”

“Thanks, D—Uh … Tony. I appreciate it.”

Tony heard the hesitation and wondered if the aborted word was the one that he wished it was. He had Peter in his life, and that was amazing, and he’d never ask, but to hear Peter call him dad would be everything.

Maybe one day. 

xXx

“That’s great,” Paul said. “Just another minute.”

Peter’s arms burned, but he pushed himself harder. He was using the arm bike, sweaty and tired. He wanted to end strong, though, so he pushed through the pain.

“Don’t push too hard, Peter.”

Peter ignored him. The faster he went, the stronger he got. Plus, it was a good distraction. It hadn’t been a great day, he was feeling low, and he needed to be busy. As strange as it was, he missed his conversations with Harrison. He had gone for surgery the day before and hadn’t been brought back to their room, though his stuff was still there. Peter hoped he would be back soon. It was nice to have someone to talk to about things. Harrison had a way of looking at the world that helped Peter see things in a different light. 

“Okay, five, four, three, two, one. That’s it.”

Peter stopped, wiping his brow on his shirt with a shaky hand.

“Okay, I’m calling it a day. You need to rest.”

He wheeled Peter back from the bike, but Peter grabbed the rims and stopped him. “Hang on. I wanted to ask you something. Tony is making me these braces, he says they’re done, so I wanted to know when I’d be able to use them. He said it depends on you.”

The way Tony had explained it to him, it sounded like Paul was being an asshole about them, which Peter couldn’t see. The guy hadn’t been the chattiest, but he was nice enough. He encouraged Peter, which was something he needed.

“I’ve spoken to Mr. Stark, yes, and he showed me what he’s capable of. He brought his friend to demonstrate.”

“You saw Colonel Rhodes?” Peter asked, eyebrows going up. “So you know they work.”

“I know they work for Colonel Rhodes,” the man said carefully, “but your injuries are different. There are no guarantees you will be able to use them the same way.”

Frustration boiled up in Peter, and he set his jaw, his chin lifting slightly in defiance. “But there’s no guarantee I won’t?”

“No.”

“Then why haven’t I been able to try them yet?”

Paul sighed. “I don’t want you to become over-eager and hurt yourself or be upset if they fail.”

Peter shook his head. “If I get hurt, I’ll heal. It’s not like I can break my back again, well, I guess I can, but it won’t make a difference. Being eager is better than never trying.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll ask Tony to bring them in so we can try.”

“Peter, I think you should—”

Peter nodded curtly. “Great. Thanks for your help.”

Peter wheeled himself out of the gym. It was the first time he’d done it before. He’d always been taken there and back, but he needed to do it. The elevator was thankfully empty when he reached it, and he wrangled himself inside, pushing the button to take him down. 

When the doors to the elevator opened, Peter wheeled passed the nurses station and to his room. The door was shut, and there wasn’t a button to open it. Looking around to see if anyone was watching, he started pushing it open and fighting his way in. When he was partway into the room, he froze, the door bouncing off the wheelchair. Ned was there, sitting on the bed.

Shock flashed over Ned’s face, but then a huge smile took its place. Hopping up, he ran to Peter, grabbing his shoulders in a tight grip.

“Peter! Damn, I’ve been looking everywhere for you—well, nearly everywhere. I checked the coffee shop and cafeteria. This place is huge. And they wouldn’t tell me where to find you at the front desk. I had to pretend I was coming to see May, and then they sent me up here, but they said you were in physical therapy, so I was just about to go looking but—” He sucked in a breath, still beaming. “I found you!”

Ned looked beyond happy to have found him. He was still the same old Ned he’d always been, accepting and open. He didn’t hide his emotions. It was like he’d seen Peter in the chair, processed it, and moved on. It was that simple. If only it could be that easy for Peter.

Peter didn’t know how to start. It was good seeing Ned but challenging at the same time. He’d not seen him since the accident, and though Ned was taking it in stride, he still felt awkward.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at school?” Peter asked, his eyebrows lifting.

Ned laughed, making his eyes crinkle. “Yeah, I guess, but I was going nuts. May would only tell me that you were okay and not ready for visitors. I thought you’d still be stuck in a hospital bed. I needed to see you. Man, you look way better than I expected.”

Peter felt strangely amused. He was in a wheelchair, coated in sweat from the physical therapy, but he looked better than Ned had expected. Guilt twisted like a knife in his stomach as he realized that he’d been a pretty crappy friend. If the situation had been reversed, he’d have been freaking out about not being able to see Ned or know what happened. 

“So, how are you doing?” Ned asked.

Peter didn’t know how much May had told him, so he was a little hesitant as he asked, “You know about my legs, right?”

Ned looked sad and nodded. “Yeah, she said it was your back, but I figure that’s only going to take a while, right? Mr. Stark will have you on your feet in no time.”

Frustration washed over him. “My spine is broken, Ned.”

Ned shrugged. “Yeah, but you’ll get braces like War Machine, right?”

Peter was still kinda unsure, but Ned’s enthusiasm was infectious. “Yeah, I talked to the physical therapist about it today. I’m going to ask Tony to bring them by tomorrow so I can try them out.”

“Really? Damn, I chose the wrong day to come in. I could have seen you walking tomorrow.”

“If they work, you’ll see me walking plenty.”

“Yeah, I will. So, are you supposed to stay in your room, or can you, like, go out?”

Peter shrugged. “I usually am, yeah, but it’s not like there’s a rule. Why?”

“I got my allowance today, so I was thinking we could go get something in the cafeteria. My cousin was in this place when he had his appendix out, and they make _the_ best milkshakes. You want?”

Peter realized he did. He wanted to be out of his room. He wanted to be with Ned. He didn’t care that people are going to see him in the chair because none of those people mattered. May and Tony saw him in the chair, and they were fine. Ned, who was his best friend, was taking it in stride. If the people he loved didn’t care, strangers didn’t matter.

“That’d be great.”

Ned glanced at the chair wheels and then back at Peter. He pointed at the handles. “You want me to push you? I think I can get you going pretty fast once we hit the halls.”

Peter laughed. “Sure. Why not.”

Ned dumped his school bag on Peter’s lap, perfectly naturally, and grabbed the handles of the chair. “Let’s do this.”

They rushed along the halls, skidding around corners. One time, Peter was almost tipped out, and Ned apologized, but Peter was laughing too hard to care. It felt so good to be doing something fun. Being with Ned was like being with Harrison. It was so good. He wished he’d come in sooner.

When they got to the cafeteria, they each got a milkshake and then headed to a table. Ned wheeled Peter up to it, and then he sat beside him.

“So, what’s the hospital like?” Ned asked.

Peter shrugged. “Like you’d expect. Boring mostly. I’ve got a kid sharing my room, who’s pretty great. His name is Harrison, and he’s in a chair like me, but he’s really cool about it. He’s made me feel kinda—better, I guess.”

Ned nodded. “Cool, and Mr. Stark is here a lot?”

Peter grinned, taking a slurp of his shake. He could see the excited look on Ned’s face. He still fanboyed over Tony. It was kinda nice to see. It felt normal. 

“He is. He’s been amazing. So’s May. I was pretty crappy to them for a while, but they stuck around.”

Ned rolled his eyes. “Of course, they did, dumbass. They’re family. I’d have been here, too, if I’d been allowed.”

“Yeah, that’s on me. I should have called you.”

Ned waved him off. “No, dude. You had a lot going on. I get that. I’m just glad I found you. It’s totally worth the reaming I’m going to get for skipping school.”

“I’m glad you did.”

“Me too. It’s so good to see you. Like, really.”

“How is school?” Peter asked, playing with his straw.

Ned shrugged as he took a drink. “Same as usual, really. Flash is being an asshole, but something did happen. It was crazy. He was mouthing off about how the team was better off without you.”

“Yeah, did everyone agree?”

“No, man, it was MJ. She got him pretty good for it, sucker punch right across the mouth. He had a fat lip for a few days, which was pretty awesome. Hold on.” He rooted in his pocket, pulling out his phone. He fiddled with it for a moment and then held it up, showing a picture of Flash with a puffy lip and bruised chin. He wasn’t looking at the camera. It was obviously taken without him realizing it.

Peter laughed. “That’s awesome. Did she get in trouble?”

“Nope. There were ten witnesses that said he tripped over his shoelaces. You know he never learned to tie them right.”

They were both laughing, and it felt good. It felt like he was flying. Harrison had been good for him and lifting out of his funks, but he was nothing compared to Ned. He connected with Ned in a way that he didn’t with others. They just understood each other. Laughing with him over milkshakes felt natural, and for a moment, he could pretend things were like before, like before everything began to crumble and change.

This wasn’t much different than the lunches they spent at school laughing while MJ interjected snarky remarks and called them dorks. He felt like himself again. It was something he hadn’t known if he’d ever get back.

“So,” Ned lowered his voice. “What happened? May said you fell, but you’re … you know. How did it happen?”

Peter felt a stab of pain at the reminder. “Not here.”

Ned nodded. “No. Of course not.” Apparently not able to wait, he picked up their milkshakes, handed them to Peter, and wheeled him out.

Peter was amused by his eagerness and only a little worried about telling Ned what happened.

When they get back to the room, Harrison was still missing. Peter didn’t want Ned to see him transferring to the chair, which he’d only done once without help, so he gestured him into the chair and rolled up across.

“Well?” Ned asked, leaning in a little.

“There’s something going on with my powers, my body was screwing up. I guess it’s still screwing up, but it’s kinda a moot point now with the chair and everything. My body is making these crazy T cells, like attack dogs, that are destroying the Spider-Man ones and making me weak.”

“Whoa, dude, that’s insane.”

“Yeah, Tony says I will be back to a regular human sooner or later. He had Doctor Banner working on it, trying to find a fix. I don’t think I could have taken that fall without being seriously hurt anyway, not even as fully Spider-Man, but I wasn’t healing, so I had no chance. The fall—I just slipped, couldn’t hang on to the wall.” He shrugged. “I fell.”

“Man, that sucks.”

“Yeah. It does, but it’s kinda small potatoes now anyway. Spider-Man is pretty useless in a wheelchair.”

Ned nodded a few times, looking solemn.

Peter held out his milkshake, and Ned took it, taking a big slurp. “So, Star Wars?”

Peter laughed again. Ned was being Ned, and it felt good.

He missed this. 


	18. Chapter 18

The first thing that Tony saw when he got to Peter’s ward was May standing outside the room. She seemed upset, her shoulders turned in and head low. He rushed toward her, and her head snapped up at his approach. Her face changed. Any illusion of sadness was gone, and in its place was unfiltered rage. She looked furious.

“What’s—”

She held up a hand. Taking a steadying breath, she squared her shoulders and jabbed a finger into his chest. “We need to talk.”

Angry women were something Tony knew how to deal with, but right now, he needed to know that his kid was okay. “Is Peter okay?”

“He’s with Ned.”

Tony was shocked to hear that Ned was there, he’d thought May had been keeping visitors down until Peter was in a better place, but something had obviously changed.

She jabbed her finger into his chest again, and then grabbed his wrist, dragging him away. Stunned, he didn’t resist. He simply trailed after her like a dog on a leash. She marched him to a side room, the whole-time radiating tension. Tony had no idea what he did, but he knew he probably deserved it. He usually did when it came to the women in his life being angry.

The room was small, and once inside, she let him go, rounding on him and waving an accusing finger. The only thing Tony could think this could be about was if Peter told her about his powers failing. Then she’d know that he had been hiding it from her, and that would never go over well. He still felt guilty for not telling her, and if that’s what this was, maybe it wasn’t sure a bad thing to have it out in the open. As long as she didn’t try to bar him from seeing Peter, he could take whatever punishment she dealt.

She pushed him into a seat, and he fell into it without objection, watching as she fumed, her hands fisting at her sides. She seemed more pissed than he’d ever seen her, and he’d been on the receiving end of a spectacular reaming out when she’d found out he’d taken Peter to Germany to fight the Avengers.

May took a breath and crossed her arms over chest, leveling her gaze on him. Her eye twitched, and for some reason, that made Tony flinch.

“Okay, you’re pissed, I get that. I’m—”

She cut him off. “Don’t tell me you’re sorry. I don’t want to hear it. I want to know why you didn’t tell me.”

Tony flinched again. “This is about Peter’s powers, right?”

“Unless there’s something else about my kid that you’re hiding from me, and I warn you now, there better not be, it’s absolutely about that.”

Tony lifted his hands, palms out, trying to ease her anger. “I’m not hiding anything else. Well, maybe…”

“Maybe what?” Her eye twitched again, and Tony swallowed. He knew Peter was on antidepressants and seeing a therapist, and he was pretty sure she didn’t know, but it wasn’t his place to tell her.

“Nothing I can say without betraying Peter, and I won’t do that, but it’s nothing bad.”

He eyed him for a moment, and he found himself shifting under her gaze. Whatever she saw, it seemed to answer her questions, and she pressed on with the main topic. “Peter is losing his powers?”

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“No.”

“Why not?” She all but growled.

“Honestly, I left it to Peter.”

“Don’t you _dare_ blame him!” Her finger of accusation was pointed at him again, and he cowered a little under the intensity of it.

He raised his hands. “I’m not. I don’t blame Peter for any of this. I only blame myself. But I found out he wasn’t healing right about a week before the accident, and I didn’t think it was my place to tell you. You remember when Peter and I were training?”

She nodded. “The black eyes.”

“Yeah, we were sparring, and I caught him on the nose. It bled like a son of a bitch, which it shouldn’t have. Hell, I shouldn’t have gotten the punch in at all, so I sat him down and got it out of him what was going on. He said it had started about a month before, that he was getting hurt and not healing so fast and that he didn’t feel so strong. I got Bruce on it right away, and he found out that there was something going wrong with Peter’s body. He’s creating T cells that are destroying the enhanced ones. He would have been back to a regular kid before long.”

May sat in a chair a little way from his. She was silent, and her body lost some of the edges of anger. He wondered what she must be thinking. Did she have the same thoughts as him, that Peter could have a normal life?

“Poor Peter,” she breathed, sounding defeated.

“Yeah. I know.”

“He could never have lived like that—not happily.”

Tony was ashamed of himself, where he had deluded himself into thinking Peter would be happier, she had seen the truth, that Peter would have suffered being side-lined. Maybe he didn’t know the kid as well as he thought, or perhaps he was just selfish and wished for the outcome that would keep him safe.

“No. He couldn’t. I found that out the day before the accident, and honestly, I didn’t even think about telling you then. I had just delivered the news to Peter, who was wrecked by it. I got selfish and dealt with my own feelings first,” he said sadly. “Before the accident, before he was hurt, I was happy about it. I knew how he’d feel, but I just saw the good of it. I wanted him to have a safe, normal life.”

She shook her head. “You think I don’t want that, too? But what in hell makes you think Peter could ever have had a normal life without his powers? He _is_ Spider-Man. He sees the world needs help. He would never be able to go back to what he was before after—” She pressed her lips together, glaring gat him. “You’re a damn idiot, Stark.”

“I know. I’m…” He stopped before the apology came. “I was selfish. I screwed up.” He figured she should know it all if she knows this much of his crime. “I let him leave after I told him what Bruce found out and didn’t see the risk. Before we knew why it was happening, why he was getting weaker, I was patrolling with him, but he was upset, and I let him go off alone.”

May’s hands clenched into fists, and then she opened them, splaying her fingers out over her knees. She took a few controlled breaths. “It didn’t make sense to me before, why he wasn’t in his real suit and why you didn’t know what had happened before I called, but now…” Her hands fisted again. “That part is done. You should have told me as soon as you knew he was having trouble with his powers, and you definitely should have told me when you knew exactly what was going on with him, so I could have been watching him. Why didn’t you tell me after the accident? Did you know I felt bad for _you_? I thought you didn’t know because something had gone wrong with his suit, that the monitoring settings you had failed, so I didn’t ask and make you feel worse that you obviously already did.”

Tony felt like an asshole. She’d been worried about him, while he’d been consumed with Peter and himself. He’d neglected Pepper, leaving her to get the news from May. He knew he didn’t deserve Peter in his life, and now he saw he never deserved May either.

“It was my fault. I know that. I hate myself for it. If I’d paid more attention, I would have seen that the kid was going to sneak out and put himself at risk.”

She opened her mouth and then closed it again. He leaned back as if to deflect whatever verbal blow she was about to send. Finally, she took another breath and then said, “You screwed up, but it’s not your fault Peter was hurt. If I believed it was, I wouldn’t let you anywhere near him.”

“You’re not going to keep me away, right?” He couldn’t keep the hope from his voice, his body was thrumming with it.

The truth was, though, that she couldn’t keep him away. He’d find a way to stay involved in his life, Peter meant too much to him, but he didn’t want to put the kid in the middle of a fight between him and May either. He needed her on his side.

“I’m not. I want to right now, but I know I can’t. I’m just so angry that you kept this from me, that you decided to hide something so important, but”—she tipped her head to the side, keeping her eyes on him—“he’s your kid just like he’s mine, and I don’t have the right to separate you from your son. I’d hurt you both doing that. Don’t think I care about you, because right now I don’t, but I care about Peter. He loves you so much.” She stood, stepping into his space and leaning down. “I will find a way to hurt you if you ever do something like this again. If there’s something I need to know, you tell me.”

“I get that, but what if it’s Peter’s to tell,” he said, thinking of the medication and therapy.

“If it puts him at risk, I don’t care whose it is to tell. If it’s private for any other reason, you can keep all the secrets with him you like.”

She seemed to be losing her steam, the anger fading. He was glad to finally have all the cards on the table. The guilt for the lies he’d been keeping lifted, and he felt relieved.

She stepped back, fixing her hair, which had fallen loose in her tirade. “Now, I’m going to see my kid.”

“I can’t?”

A small smile graced her lips. “No, you can, but first you’re going to the cafeteria to fetch the pair of them more milkshakes. Ned likes chocolate, and Peter…”

Tony grimaced. “Banana if they’ve got it. Yeah. I know. Strange taste buds in that kid.”

She laughed. “They really are and take your time. I know you want to see him, but he needs this time with Ned.” She sighed. “I should have got him in here sooner. I make mistakes, too.”

Not quite on the same level, Tony held the awards for screw-ups, but it was good to know she wasn’t perfect either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so May was understandably upset. Up next is Peter and the braces!


	19. Chapter 19

Tony was nervous. The asshole physical therapist was watching him carefully. Peter was stretched out on the couch in the gym as Tony strapped on the braces.

“I know they’re bulky, but that’s because they’re the first set. Once you’re used to these, I’ll make you some more sleek ones that you can wear under your clothes like Rhodey does now, and a better fit will make them more comfortable around your stomach and back. Remember, these are just the prototypes.”

Peter grabbed his wrist and squeezed it. “I’ve got it. They’re not perfect yet, but they’re going to work.”

Tony started to answer, to encourage, but the physical therapist cut in. “We hope they’ll help, Peter, but you know there are no guarantees.”

Peter looked annoyed. “I know. Don’t worry. I’m not expecting miracles.”

Tony was annoyed, too. This was a huge moment. If this worked—please, let it work—Peter was about to be on his feet for the first time in weeks. He’d be able to walk. This asshole was taking all the joy out of it for Peter.

Tony adjusted the last strap around Peter’s thigh and was about to ask how it felt when he caught himself. Peter couldn’t tell him how it felt because he could feel nothing at all. That was the problem. He ran his fingers under the strap, checking to make sure it was tight but not cutting into him, then took Peter’s hands and eased him up. 

Peter sat for a moment, staring down at his legs and the braces, and then something came into his eyes, something that looked like joy, and he manhandled his legs around to the edge of the couch.

“Let me help you up, kid.” The couch was too high for Peter to stand easily, and if he fell, it was going to destroy all the kid’s confidence.

Peter nodded, and Tony eased his arms under him and helped him to stand. Peter’s face flooded with color and happiness. Tony had seen the moment Rhodey first got on his feet, and it had been big, but it hadn’t been the same pure emotion that Peter was showing. Maybe because Rhodey didn’t have the same faith in his invention that Peter had, maybe because he was a soldier and hid what he was feeling. All Tony knew was that he felt happier right now that he’d been in too long to think.

“How is it?” he asked.

Peter laughed. “It’s unreal. I feel—was I always this tall?”

Tony laughed and squeezed his arms, which he was still holding. “You know, I think you’ve grown again.”

“Awesome.”

“You ready to try a few steps?”

Peter nodded eagerly. “Yeah. Definitely.”

The physical therapist stepped closer. “Maybe we should get you back into the chair and take you to the parallel bars.”

Peter’s face fell, and he looked to Tony. “No, Mr. Stark’s got me, right?”

He was so confident, so sure Tony would save him if he fell. It made a lump form in his throat.

“You know it.” He moved himself to stand in front of Peter with his hands gripping his upper arms. “Whenever you’re ready, Pete.”

Peter nodded and stared down at his feet as he slowly lifted one and planted it a couple inches away in a kind of shuffle. His face broke into a wide smile, and he stared into Tony’s eyes.

“I’m doing it.”

The physical therapist was quick to speak. “Don’t push yourself too hard too soon, Peter.”

Tony’s gaze snapped to the man. “You ever heard of encouragement? The kid is _doing_ it, he’s amazing, so quit pissing all over it.”

The physical therapist scowled, but Peter snorted and then took another step. “I’ve got it.”

Tony took a careful step back, still close to Peter and holding him steady. Rhodey had seemed more stable than Peter, Tony was taking a lot of his weight, but he was doing better than Tony had dared hope. 

“Couple more?” he asked.

“Definitely. I want to get to the bars, so I can try alone.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Paul, the physical therapist said.

Tony gritted his teeth. Honestly, he wasn’t sure it was a good idea either, it was a long way, but he wasn’t about to crush Peter’s dreams while he was doing so well.

“Okay. That means we’re going to have to turn slightly. Move your upper body and your braces will be guided.”

Peter nodded, taking a breath, and then carefully turned and took a step. The braces turned his feet as they were designed to, and Peter seemed surprised.

“Wow, they’re even smarter than I thought they’d be.”

Tony feigned a scowl. “Seriously, kid, you doubted my skills?”

“No, it’s just … I didn’t know how they’d work. I thought maybe it would be more like I was being moved by a machine, like a robot, but I feel like it’s me doing in, too.”

“That’s because it is. They react to the movements of your stomach muscles, even the places you can’t feel as they’re all connected, so you’re in control.” 

“Another step,” Peter warned, and then lifted his foot.

It was a bigger one this time, and he wobbled. Tony steadied him and grinned. “You know that whole thing about walking before you can run…”

Peter laughed. “Yeah, I know I can’t do that.”

Tony stopped himself from saying it, that one day he'd run. That was something he had to keep from himself in case he couldn’t pull it off. He thought he could, though. It was just a matter of strengthening the braces and increasing the sensitivity. He hoped so anyway.

“I really think you’ve done enough now,” Paul said.

Tony rounded on him, a sharp retort on his tongue, but he was caught off guard by Peter. The kid snatched his arms away from Tony, and his hands are held out with a jerk-like on instinct. Tony knew what he was doing. If he had his web-shooters on, he’d be sticking the guy to the floor.

Tony had a split second to take it in, and then Peter lost his balance, toppling back. Tony grabbed for him, but he was too far away. Peter fell back, catching his head on the metal edge of the couch with a grunt of pain and then crumpling on the floor.

Tony dropped to his knees beside him, hands reaching for him, when he noted the small pool of blood under Peter’s head, and he panicked.

“Damn. Oh—okay, Pete, lie still.” He looked around for something to put on the wound, but the physical therapist was already in action. He grabbed a towel, holding it to the back of Peter’s head with one hand and running a finger across Peter’s vision with the other.

“Follow my finger, Peter.”

Peter looked a little dazed, and Tony felt sick. If the kid was hurt, if he let him get hurt again, he’d never forgive himself.

“I’m fine,” Peter said, voice breathy.

“Mr. Stark, by the door is a red button. Go press it.”

Tony lurched to his feet, sprinting to the button and slamming his fingers on it. He rushed back to Peter, but Paul was holding up a hand to him. He was the one helping Peter right now, and Tony needed to trust him.

The door opened, and a woman in scrubs rushed in. “You need a stretcher?”

“Yes, and get a doctor from the floor. He’s got a head injury.”

The woman left.

Peter’s eyes found Tony, and he looked almost scared, making Tony’s stomach knot. He moved closer automatically. “It’s okay, Pete. You’re going to be fine.”

“Mr. Stark, I think you should wait outside.”

“I’m not leaving my kid.”

The man scowled at him. “Peter doesn’t need you right now. He needs medical attention.”

“I’m not leaving!”

“If you’re staying, then help get these braces off Peter. They’re going to make it harder to treat him.”

Tony undid the straps, his eyes on Peter’s face as the kid blinked slowly. He hoped it was just shock, that he wasn’t really hurt, but he was worried.

The door opened, and the woman returned with another in tow. Tony picked up the braces and backed away so they could get Peter on the stretcher, the towel still pressed to his head. They wheeled him toward the door, and Tony followed, but the physical therapist turned and crossed his arms over his chest.

“You can’t be with him right now. He needs a doctor.”

Tony’s hand fisted around the straps of the braces. He wanted to throw a punch so bad that it was like a visceral need. “Look, I know you think…”

The man held up a hand. “Your _invention_ ,” he said, emphasizing the word, “can work, I see that, but they can also fail when Peter isn’t strong enough. I warned you.”

“He fell because he was angry at you. If you’d just kept your mouth shut, he wouldn’t have lost focus.”

“Perhaps, but I wasn’t the one holding him, was I?”

Tony was seething. Only thoughts of Peter kept him from doing something he would regret.

“If you want to help, you can call his aunt. She should know what’s happened. I’m sure someone will find you when there’s news.”

He strode out, leaving Tony standing alone in the gym, his eyes on the smear of blood on the floor where Peter laid. It took him a minute to get a hold of himself, then he dumped the braces on the couch and took out his phone and dialed May’s number.

He’d been looking forward to seeing her again, Peter had wanted to keep the first test of the braces from her, so he could show her what he could do in person, but now he was going to have to call and tell her their kid had been hurt on his watch.

“Tony? What’s wrong?”

Was it a parents’ sixth sense to know when something was wrong, or did she expect him to screw up? Without asking, he began to tell her what happened. “Peter had an accident…”

xXx

Harrison was happy. Tony delivered the new wheel covers for his chair, and they were, according to Harrison, perfect. The colors were exactly what he wanted, and they had the added feature of being glow in the dark around the edges.

Peter was struggling. He’s had three days off from physical therapy since he gave himself a concussion, but he was due to start again soon.

He’d been doing so well, got so excited, but he’d screwed it up and worried Tony and May. He’d seen Tony’s fear after he fell, and May had been upset when she arrived to find him with three stitches in the back of his head.

And if he was honest, he’d lost his nerve. He was worried about falling again. He didn’t want to hurt himself and make Tony feel bad again. 

“—and Mr. Stark says they’ll spin if I press this button, like really fast,” Harrison said.

“That’s great, Harri.” Peter forced cheerfulness into his tone.

“Yep. I can’t wait to show them off at school. The kids are going to be so jealous. None of their wheely sneakers are as cool as these are going to be.”

Peter smiled. Harrison was great, and he was going to miss him after tomorrow when they said he’d be discharged, but he’d gotten his number and promised they’d meet up again when Peter got out of the hospital. Harrison said there was a great park near his apartment that had a wide, straight path, so they could race in their chairs.

The door opened. Peter stiffened, thinking it was his reminder to head down to physical therapy, but it was Tony, and he was looking pleased. Peter eyed him cautiously. 

“Morning, kids,” Tony said brightly. “Pete, you ready to head down? I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“What is it?”

“You know the concept of surprise, right? You’ll see. Trust me when I say it’s something you need, though.”

Peter was curious and leaned forward to tug the wheelchair closer. He raised the arm of the seat he was in and then pulled the wheelchair into place and locked the brakes, pushing up with his hands and sliding into the chair. It was the first time he’d done this in front of Tony, but he felt confident enough to do it. He wanted Tony to see him doing something for himself. He got settled in place and looked up.

Tony was grinning. “Neat move, Pete.”

“It’s harder than it looks,” Harrison chimed in. “You’ve got to build your arms up to do it. It took me ages. Peter’s really strong.”

Tony nodded, face serious. “In all kinds of ways.”

Peter ducked his head, feeling better about himself now, and then Tony said, “You ready to go?” and his nerves picked up again.

He wheeled himself out and along the hall with Tony at his side.

“How do you feel about getting back into the braces?”

“Okay, I guess.”

“It makes sense if you’re nervous, but you _know_ your guy Paul wouldn’t have you in them if he didn’t think you could handle it. It’ll be a little different this time, he says he’s got ways to make it safer, and he’ll hold onto you.”

“You won’t?” He tried not to sound as let down as he felt.

“No, I’ll be there, but there’s something I’ve got to do before you start. Don’t start without me.”

Curious and a little anxious, Peter nodded, and they carried on.

When they got down to the gym, Tony pressed the button for the automatic doors, gesturing Peter inside. “I’ll be right with you. Go on in. Your surprise is waiting in there for you.”

Peter went in, and the door closed behind him. He saw his ‘surprise’ at once. Colonel Rhodes was leaning against the couch Peter had fallen against. He stepped forward as Peter wheeled himself in and said, “Hey, Peter.”

“You’re my surprise?” He realized that sounded rude and rushed to continue. “That’s great.”

Colonel Rhodes laughed. “He told you that I was a surprise? Sorry about that. He was definitely overselling it.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Tony figured you might need to talk to someone that’s been in your position, so I came in.”

“You didn’t have to. I know you’re busy.” 

“Peter, I’ve been waiting for him to loosen the ties a little for me to be able to see you since your accident. He’s really protective of you.”

“Yeah, maybe too much.”

“Yeah, maybe, but it’s only because he loves you.” He took his hands from his pockets and stepped forward, hand outstretched to shake. “It’s good to see you again.”

Peter shook his hand. “You wanted to see me?”

“Yeah, I did. For me as well as you. I wanted to check in, to see how you’re doing since Tony’s been pretty close-lipped about how you were doing. And I thought seeing someone that’s been in your place might help you, too. I know it would have helped me when I was there. Let’s walk around a little.”

Peter was confused, but he wheeled himself at Colonel Rhodes’s side, watching how easily he moved from the corner of his eyes. He had complete control of the braces. He made it look so easy. He was so confident. Peter wondered if he’d ever look like that.

“How are you doing, Peter?”

“I’m fine. Good—great even.”

“You are?” he sounded surprised. “You’re doing better than me. How did you get on with the braces? Tony said you tried them out.”

Peter was surprised Tony didn’t tell him the whole story, but he figured he was protecting him.

“I fell and cracked my head open.”

Colonel Rhodes laughed, which seemed mean until he said, “Honestly, kid, you might want to get used to that. I fell over so many damn times at first, which is mostly my fault since I was pushing too hard too soon. First time I was in them, when Tony brought them in, I fell on my ass and…” He took a deep breath. “It was all I could do not to scream.”

Peter was shocked. Colonel Rhodes was a hero—as brave as Tony. He was amazing.

“What happened?”

“Lucky for me, Tony was there, so I had a reason to not meltdown. He helped me up, and I kept going. My physical therapist was a real hard-ass, so there wasn’t sympathy when I fell down, and then I got better, fell over less, and started feeling like I was in some kind of control.”

“You think I’ll fall over a lot?”

“Probably not as much as me as you’re younger and probably smarter—quicker to pick things up. Tony says you’re a genius. I was never that smart. I kept pushing. I’m not saying it didn’t pay off in the end.” He spread his arms and did a kind of sidestep. “But I think I’d have done better taking my time.”

Peter nodded. “I don’t I have a choice in that. My physical therapist is kinda the opposite of a hard ass. He was getting a little pissed at Tony when I was in the braces. I get that he didn’t want me to get hurt, and he was kinda proved right since I did, but that was partly his fault since he pissed me off, too.”

“Yeah, I get that. I think too much caution is worse than not enough. You’ve got to find the balance on your own. Listen to what they say, they are experts on this stuff, but you’re the expert on _you_. Know your limits, push them a little, but listen to them, too. I wish someone had told me that when I was starting out.”

Peter felt bolstered. He wasn’t being told to be too careful, and he wasn’t being told to do something he couldn’t. He felt like he had a better idea of what to expect now. He was going to fall, but as long as he was smart, he wouldn’t be hurt too bad. And he’d have Tony there helping him.

He put a voice to the question he’d been thinking about for a while. “How long did it take you to get used to what happened to you? To being in the chair?”

“A while. I’m not sure I’m used to it yet, to be honest. You and me, our whole lives were redefined after what happened to us. For me, I found strength in my friends and finding all the things that didn’t change. My friends, my family. Tony was amazing, though he’ll never believe it if you told him, since he doesn’t see just how good he is at this stuff.”

Peter huffed a laugh. He knew that. “He’s been amazing. I’ve been hard to help lately, though it’s getting better. But him and May have been really patient.”

“That’s because they love you. Thing about Tony, he’s guarded. It’s a big deal for him to open up to people, but when he does, when he loves you, he is there for keeps. I saw it happen with you, probably the fastest I’ve ever seen in him, and I see it now. Damn, kid, he loves you.”

“I love him, too,” Peter said honestly. “I know how lucky I am to have him.”

“Me too. He’s great.” Colonel Rhodes laughed. “Don’t tell him I said that, though. We don’t want him getting an even bigger head.”

It was said with fondness. Peter could see that Colonel Rhodes really cared about Tony, just like Peter did.

The door opened, and Paul came in. Peter was more pleased to see him than he thought he’d be. He wasn’t so worried now. He was going to fall, just like Colonel Rhodes did, but he’d get back up and try again until he got it. One day, he vowed to himself, he’d be that good in the braces.

“Colonel Rhodes.” Peter hesitated, a little unsure.

“It’s Rhodey.”

He smiled. “Rhodey, can you stay for my session?”

“Damn right. I don’t know when Tony will let me see you again, when he’ll feel like sharing, so I’m going to make the most of this.”

Peter felt good. He liked the idea of getting to know Rhodey better. He was nice, and he’d helped Peter see what he had to expect. He made him feel like he had more control.


	20. Chapter 20

Tony had been asked by May to join her for a meeting. It was with the physical therapist, Peter’s doctor, and his psychiatrist. He was a little worried as it was unexpected and formal, but he was glad to be included. 

The doctor leaned forward and said, “We have discussed this situation with Peter already, he knows what we’re going to speak about, but he didn’t take the news as well as we were expecting, so we thought we’d speak to you separately. Peter is ready to leave the hospital.”

Tony was relieved. He had been expecting bad news, but this was great. Peter would finally be out of this place and back home where he belonged. He couldn’t understand why Peter wouldn’t be happy about that. Was he worried about what it would be like outside the hospital? It was a big step.

“How will his therapy continue?” May asked, and Tony was thankful she was there. She knew what to ask. 

“We’ll have a physical therapist come to his home to continue working with him, and other appointments will be arranged in the home, too.” 

The psychiatrist nodded. “All arrangements are in place.”

He looked at May, seeing her nodding along. He realized she must know about the therapy and the medication. Peter probably didn’t have an issue telling her. She hadn’t kicked his shrink out.

Tony looked at the doctor. “But he’s not happy about it? Is that unusual?”

“Not really. There is usually a certain level of anxiety about leaving the hospital environment because that’s when the reality of the situation becomes clear. In the hospital, there is hope for better and a sense of safety.”

May shook her head, looking worried. “It’s not that. Not for Peter.”

“Then what is it?” Tony asked.

She sighed, seeming embarrassed. “You’ve seen our apartment, Tony. It’s not big. He’s going to have a hard time moving around it in the chair and getting in and out of bed. There’s not a lot of room.” She shook her head. “The elevator’s broken again, so he’ll have to be carried up the stairs, and he’ll be trapped inside.”

Tony was surprised. He hadn’t thought of any of that. It was going to be a struggle for Peter. Even though he just learned of the problem, he already had a solution, but he wasn’t sure he could offer it? He didn’t want to upset May, but it would help them meet Peter’s needs. He addressed it carefully. 

“He could stay with me and Pep.”

May stared at him for a moment, and his nerves made him shift in his seat. She placed a hand on his arm and said fervently, “Thank you, Tony. That would help so much.” She paused. “We have to be careful, though. I don’t want Peter to think I don’t want him with me.”

“He’d never think that. He knows you love him.”

“He does, but this is still a big step. I don’t want to hurt him more than he already has been. We can speak to him together.”

Tony looked at the team of professionals. “Is there anything special I need to prepare for Peter? Bathroom or bedroom stuff?”

The physical therapist answered, “Not too much, as that will make him feel his struggle more. In time there might be changes to make to enable him to manage around the home alone, but for now, he just needs a bed of a suitable height for transfer from the chair and a bathroom with enough room to place the chair.”

“I’ve got that.”

His bathrooms were huge, even Pepper said they were too big, but he’d gotten carried away when they designed the tower. He already knew the room Peter could have. He’d had hoped that one day it could be a personal space for Peter anyway, but he never wanted to overstep. It was perfect, though, not too close to Tony and Pepper’s room, so he felt crowded, but close enough that Tony could get in there if he needed him. The shower stall was big and open, easy to maneuver around. Really, Peter being in the tower was better, not only for Tony’s peace of mind but for Peter, too. 

“Peter will know everything else he needs as it’s things he’s been using in the hospital.”

Tony laughed. “You might want to give me a list anyway. If it’s down to Peter to tell me what to buy, I won’t hear any of it.”

The doctor nodded. “We can arrange that.”

Tony grudgingly addressed physical therapist. “I’ve got a gym in my place, and I want to equip it for him. I’ve seen what you’ve got in the gym, but which of it is going to be good for him?”

“The arm bike would be good and basic weights. Parallel bars would be good.”

“No chance.” May cut him off. “Peter won’t let Tony buy them.”

The physical therapist shrugged. “If he’s going to keep going with those braces, he’s going to need them or two people to spot him in case he falls again.”

May looked at Tony. “You know as well as I do that he won’t be happy if you’re installing stuff for him that you can’t use yourself.” 

He didn’t need the reminder. The kid objected every time Tony bought something for him bigger than a sandwich, sometimes even then. “Then I’ll spot him and have Happy help.” He wasn’t sure Peter would like that either, but he needed to be safe. He wasn’t letting him get hurt again on his watch. 

The doctor considered. “What about a ballet barre? Then he would only need one person with him. He can steady himself on the other side.”

Tony nodded. “Yeah. Great. I’ll tell him Pepper is going to be doing ballet.”

May raised an eyebrow. “You think he’ll buy that?”

Tony grinned. “He will when he finds out she was a top dancer when she was young.” He laughed. “I might even be able to get her in a tutu to demonstrate her skills.”

May laughed. “I think you have a little too much confidence in your persuasive skills, Tony.”

“Yeah. Maybe. Still, it’s a good enough reason to have one, and if it helps Peter, it’s worth it.”

She nodded. 

“Good.” The Doctor closed his file. “I think Peter will be ready to be discharged in a few days, so you have some time to prepare the bed, at least.”

Tony was looking forward to it. He had an idea for Peter’s room that he thought they’d both get a kick out of seeing.

He and May left the room, and as soon as they were outside it, May pulled him to a stop and hugged him. He was surprised, especially with how tense things had been lately after she found out about Peter’s powers failing. He hugged her back, feeling a release of some of the tension.

She drew back. “Thank you, Tony. I know I’ve been hard on you lately—”

“Because I deserved it. I’m not arguing that.”

She smiled. “You have, but you also keep coming through for Peter. He would never have gotten through this without you, and neither would I.”

Tony was pleased. It felt good, like he was actually doing something right by his son instead of just screwing up. “Shall we go talk to him?”

“Yeah. If I know our kid, he’s tying himself in knots right now , trying to work out what he’s going to do.”

They went to Peter’s room where he had his tablet on his lap and talking to Ned. He smiled at them when they arrived and turned the tablet so they could say hi to Ned. 

“You look serious,” Peter said, a little worried. 

May gave him a small smile. “We need to talk.”

“Okay. Ned, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later.”

“Okay, dude. See you.”

Peter ended the call and set the tablet down. “What’s going on?”

Tony pulled up a chair , and May sat on the edge of his bed. “They said you’re ready to leave the hospital in a few days.”

Peter looked a little anxious. “Yeah, they said.”

“How do you feel about it?”

Peter shrugged. “It’ll be good to get home.”

Tony could see his unease , so he took up the issue. “Look, Pete, we were talking, and we think things might be tough on you in your apartment. The elevator isn’t working again, and there’s not as much space for you to get around in your chair.”

Peter glanced between May and Tony, chewing his lip. “Yeah, but I figure once I’m in, I won’t need to leave again. I’ll just have to be careful in the chair getting around, not bump into things too much. It’ll be fine.”

May looked at Tony, then back to Peter. “Tony had an idea.”

Peter looked wary. “Okay.”

Tony could see the cogs turning in his head , and he figured Peter thought he was about to start throwing money around. If he could get away with buying May and Peter somewhere nice to live, a place closer to the tower, he’d love to, but he knew neither of them would accept it. 

“I was wondering if you’d like to stay with me and Pepper for a while.”

Peter looked shocked but didn’t speak. 

Tony backtracked. “You don’t have to, it was just an idea. You’ll have a little more room in my place for your chair and whatever, and you could go home when the elevator is fixed and May’s moved stuff around a little to give you more space. Only as long as you want.”

Peter shot a glance at May. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s a great idea. I don’t want to be away from you, I want you close, but I want what’s best for you, and the apartment isn’t set up for a wheelchair yet. That’ll take time for me to do. You’d have plenty of room with Tony and Pepper, and you wouldn’t be alone as much as you would at home.”

Peter chewed his lip. “But you wouldn’t be mad that I’m not coming home?”

“Definitely not. I’ll miss you, of course, and I’ll be over all the time until you’re sick for me.”

Peter looked relieved and a little excited. “Then it’d be great to stay with you and Miss Potts. Thanks.” He rushed on. “It’s not going to be a pain, though, having me hanging around? I’ll stay out of your way.”

Tony shook his head. “I have all kinds of fun planned when I’ve got you under my roof. Pepper only lets me have a pizza, horror movie, and PJ party once a month, but I’m pretty sure you can charm her into one at least once a week.”

Peter still looked troubled. 

“And,” Tony said pointedly, “she’s going to be thrilled to have you there, too. Really, kid, you’re doing us both a favor.”

Peter relaxed. “Yeah, great, but don’t go crazy buying stuff. I don’t need anything special, like wheelchair stuff.”

Tony crossed his arms over his chest while wondering how much he can get away with buying. “I’ll only get the absolute necessities.”

Peter grinned. “Thanks, Tony.” 

Tony clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ve got to head out for a while and get your room ready. I’m thinking that talking sponge wallpaper.”

Peter laughed. “Thanks, but no, and you don’t need to get a room  _ ready _ . I’m sure you’ve already got a spare bed.”

Tony rubbed his chin. “I might have a few, yeah.”

May laughed. “A few?”

“You have no idea,” Peter said.

“I have enough.” Tony scowled playfully, and then he had an idea. “Actually, we’ve got plenty for you, too, May. If you want somewhere to crash when you’re not working, we’ll set you up with something.”

May smiled, and it crinkled the corner of his eyes. “That would be great. Thank you, Tony, but don’t go to any trouble.” 

“I won’t. I’ll leave Pepper in charge of setting your room up.”

May thanked him again , and Tony got up. He wanted to get the room ready and the gym stuff ordered, and he only had a few days to do it. It was going to be a balance, not going overboard, but he could pull it off. 

If this was what Peter needed to be able to stay with him, it was what Tony would do. 

He said his goodbyes and headed out, feeling good about the idea of having his kid living with him. He was excited to share the news with Pepper. She’d been wanting to see Peter for a long time, but it was never the right time. Now, with Peter living with them, they’d both have plenty of time. 

* * *

“Okay, Friday, check the microphones. Are they clear?”

“Yes. I have perfect audio from Mr. Parker’s room.”

“Great.”

There was a tap on the door , and Tony turned to see Pepper standing in the doorway with her arms crossed and face stony. “You’ve bugged his room?”

“What? No!”

She arched an eyebrow. 

“Okay, technically, but if he falls over and needs help, I need to know.”

Pepper rolled her eyes. “Friday, cut the audio , and do not let him set it up again.”

There was a pause. Pepper stared at Tony, foot tapping. 

“Okay. Listen to the lady, Friday. Cut the baby monitor program.”

Pepper smiled and crossed the room to hug him. He relaxed into it , and then she pulled away to arms’ length. “I know you’re worried about him, but if he falls, he can call Friday to tell you himself. This isn’t like the suit , which needs to be monitored as he’s throwing himself into danger every day. He’s going to be living here, a teenage boy, and he needs privacy.”

He raked his fingers through his hair. “I know. I do. It’s just—I am worried. May is putting her trust in us to look after him while he’s here, and I’ve already screwed up too many times.”

“And you learned your lesson from it. You’ve got to relax and just enjoy this. Think how great it will be to have him here. I know how excited I am about it, so it’s got to be huge for you. We will both be here to take care of him, but we can’t crowd him. He’s independent.”

Tony huffed a laugh. “He really is. Stubborn, too.”

“Which proves stubbornness is not just inherited by blood.”

Tony’s brow furrowed. 

Pepper laughed. “If you don’t think he’s gotten that from having you as a dad, you’re not as smart as I thought.”

Tony loved it when people referred to him as Peter’s dad. It was like a little rush each time he heard it. What he held in his heart and mind for so long was now being recogni z ed by others, accepted. It was amazing. 

“Maybe, but I don’t hold the monopoly on stubbornness. You’re not exactly un-stubborn.”

“You know that’s not a word, right?” Pepper asked.

“Am I wrong?”

“Maybe not , but being with you requires a certain amount of stubbornness.”

He pecked her on the lips. “Right back at ya.”

Pepper looked around the room. “I’ve got to say, I’m impressed. You didn’t go overboard in here.”

“Nope, the bed is new , but that was necessary so it’s the right height for the chair, and I got a transfer chair for the shower, but everything else is stuff we already had.”

“That’s impressive self-control for you. Well done.”

“Boss, we have a delivery coming up. I think it’s the art you ordered for Peter’s room.”

“Tony…” Pepper warned. “What did you buy?”

Tony laughed, rubbing his hands together. “Nothing extreme, and I know he’s not leaving it up longer than a night, but it’s a promise I made that I decided to keep. He’ll get a kick out of it.”

He rushed to the door to accept the bulky parcel and carried it into the bedroom. He leaned it against the wall and tore off the paper. It was a large framed print of him in his suit. 

Pepper stared at it, blinking. “That’s a whole lot of your face. You not worried it’ll give him nightmares? It would me.”

“No. It’s a thing we had going on. I told him when he was moved out of the ICU that I’d set him up with an Iron Man - themed room, though he got some kind of crazy talking sponge instead. Trust me, Pep, he’ll see the joke.”

“Well, you know him better than I do, so I’ll trust you.” She brushed her fringe back. “Anyway, I’ve got a lunch meeting and will probably be home late since I’ve got that conference call this afternoon, and you know how those things drag.”

“Yeah, I do. Have I told you lately how glad I am you took control of the company?”

“Not lately , no, but the look of sheer relief when I am the one going to the office instead of you communicates it well enough. Now, I’ve got to go. Behave. Don’t go shopping.” 

“I’ll try to resist the urge.” 

She pointed a finger. “You better.”

He kissed her , and she left. He looked around again, straightening the blanket, and then went into the kitchen to get a coffee. Feeling generous, he made Bruce a tea and carried them down to the lab. 

Bruce was at a microscope, muttering under his breath. “Come on. You can do it.”

“Do what?”

Bruce’s head snapped up , and he looked a little awkward. “Uh… nothing.”

“I call bullshit.”

Bruce scrubbed a hand over his mouth. “Okay, I was working with a theory on nerves and bones, regenerating the nerves that are lost—which are surprisingly easy to come by , to be honest. I’ve been buying them off med students that get them from cadavers.”

“Anyway?”

“Yeah, anyway, I was working with a theory that…” He sighed. “Doesn’t work. Sorry.”

Tony was a little disappointed, but he was handling it. He wasn’t pinning everything on Bruce anymore. He’d not given up, but he was more accepting of the situation. 

“Don’t worry about it. I know you tried.”

Bruce blinked at him. “Are you pulling me from the project?”

“No.” He wasn’t ready to do that. “Definitely not, but you’re going to have to play in on the down - low from now on. Peter is going to be living here, and you can’t tell him what you’re working on.” 

Bruce held up his hand. “Pepper already warned me. We decided the cover story is that I’m working on a way to beat back the green guy.”

Tony nodded. “Yeah. He’ll believe that.”

“That’s what she figured. When’s he arriving?”

“We’re bringing him home tomorrow.” 

He liked calling it home. His home  would be Peter’s, too, at least for a while. Guiltily, he hoped it took a while to get the elevator repaired and for May to set the apartment up. 

“Great. You want me to keep my distance? Pepper wasn’t sure how he’d handle company.” 

Tony considered. “No, you don’t need to do that, but maybe give him space. He’s not been around many people lately, though he’s doing better emotionally.” Partially thanks to the medication Tony hadn’t wanted him on, but he’d been wrong, and he could accept that.

“Got it.” Bruce picked up his tea , and Tony went into the workshop to his latest project.

He was working on a new set of braces, and this time they weren’t for Peter. They were for Harrison, and he hadn’t told Peter about them in case they didn’t work, but he was hopeful. Harrison’s physical therapist was little more open-minded than Peter’s had been. If he could pull this off, and if he had Peter’s support, he had a plan for Stark Industries that he was excited about. 

* * *

Tony tipped his head toward the door. “You ready?”

Peter was sitting in the wheelchair. It wasn’t the one he’d keep. They had ordered his , and it was being made. Harrison had helped pick out the colors and design—basic blue and black that had disappointed Harrison. This chair wasn’t as fancy , but it would work until his other came, and it was a good fit for him. 

He looked around hi m , checking to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything and killing time. 

He was anxious now that it was time to leave. He’d been looking forward to it, but he was still wary. He was about to enter the world properly as a paraplegic, leaving the safety of the hospital. It was intimidating as hell, and he didn’t know if he could handle it.

He had to face the music, though. 

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

Tony picked up his bag from the bed, May opened the door, and he wheeled himself out. The nurses said goodbye as he passed, and he thanked them, but his mind was focused on not freaking out.

They got to the elevator , and Peter pressed the button. They started moving down , and his breath caught. Tony placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. That helped. He wasn’t alone. Tony was there, so was May. Besides, he was only going to the tower. It wasn’t like he’d be out in the world seeing lots of people. It wasn’t time for that yet. He wasn’t thinking big picture, school again, because he wasn’t ready. That could all wait. 

Tony took the lead , and he followed him out, eyes moving around the people in the lobby. Only a few of them were looking at him. He told himself that was because he was with Tony. The man was famous and drew attention wherever he went. There was nothing special about a kid in the wheelchair. He was one of many. 

They got out into the fresh air , and his head swam. He hadn’t been out since the accident. The space around him felt too big, too open, like he could get swept away and lost in his surroundings. 

Tony raised a hand , and a black car pulled up in front of them. He’d not thought about this. Of course Happy was going to drive him. Who else?

Happy got out of the car and came around to the side. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled, though there was a shadow of something darker, something like sadness or shock. In a blink , it was gone. “Hey, kid. It’s been a while. You ready to get out of here?”

Peter grinned. He was more than ready now that he was out of his room. He didn’t like being out in the open and couldn’t wait to be tucked away in the tower where it was safe. “Definitely.”

He wheeled himself to the open door and shuffled himself to the edge of the chair. He’d practiced this in the gym, how to get into a car, but it was the first time with an audience apart from the physical therapist. He lifted his legs and put them into the footwell. He could feel people watching, but when he looked up, they were all looking in other directions, pointedly watching birds overhead and reading signs. He edged closer, and then with a heave and huffed breath, he slid into the car and leaned back. His legs were at an awkward angle, and he had to adjust them, then he relaxed back in the seat and sighed. 

“Got it?” Tony asked. 

“Yeah.”

“Seatbelt.” Happy reminded him. 

He snapped it on , and the door closed. The wheelchair and his bag were stowed in the trunk, then May and Tony got in , and then they were moving. It was a strange sensation after so long, and he noticed the difference. It was a smoother ride than he remembered, and he figured it was because he couldn’t feel the motion below the waist. It wasn’t upsetting , though. He was actually feeling pretty relaxed. Leaning his head against the door, he stared out the window and watched the city pass. Tony and May kept up a steady stream of chatter, but Peter was content in silence. 

They reached the garage of the tower, and Happy parked the car, bringing around his wheelchair and opening the door. Peter got his legs out and then stopped. Happy had parked on the sloped side of the lot so Peter couldn’t slide himself out easily. He had to lift himself higher, and he wasn’t sure he could. He shifted himself right to the edge and then stopped. 

“I can’t do it.”

“What’s wrong?” Happy asked, 

Peter couldn’t tell Happy what he’d done wrong, not in front of everyone, so he had to swallow his pride. “I need a little help. Tony, can you…?”

Tony put the bag down and hurried over. “Sure, how do you want me to do it?”

Peter blushed, ducking his head. “Can you lift me out and put me in the chair.”

“Yeah, no problem.” Tony got his hands around him , and then Peter was being lifted. His head scraped the rim of the door , and Tony cursed, but Peter didn’t say anything to make it worse. It was a simple mistake. And he’d tell Happy about the incline some other time when no one else was listening. 

He settled in the chair, and Tony stepped back, rolling his shoulders. Peter lifted his feet on to the rests and then wheeled himself back. 

“Great, thanks.”

They all looked pleased, and he was grateful that he didn’t freak out. It was going better than he could have expected. He was proud of himself. It was a good feeling as he’d not found anything to be proud of lately. 

He wheeled towards the door , and Tony held it open. They got into the elevator , and Tony said, “All the way up, Friday.”

“Going up. Welcome back, Mr. Parker.”

Peter smiled. “Hey, Friday.”

It felt good to be somewhere familiar. He realized that he wasn’t going to have Karen anymore. He hadn’t thought of that. He could put the mask on and talk to her, but that’d probably be too tough. Karen was part of his life as Spider-Man. It wasn’t the same anymore. 

They arrived at the penthouse , and Peter was first out of the elevator and looking around. It was strange to think this would be his home for a while. He loved the tower as it meant he was spending time with Tony, and he’d be able to do that even more now. He wasn’t even worried about getting on Tony’s nerves the way he had before. Tony really seemed to want him there, and he was more secure in their relationship now. It was weird to think something good had come out of the accident that cost him so much, but it had. It gave him something special with Tony, something he could have only dreamed about before.

* * *

Tony’s palms were sweaty, and he rubbed them against his pockets. He watched anxiously as Peter looked around. So far, things were going well. Peter seemed okay, and the ride over had gone well. Tony had been shocked when Peter asked for help getting out of the car , but pleased . The kid was handling everything like a pro. Tony was proud. 

“You want to see your room?” he offered. 

“Yeah. Sure.”

Tony lead him toward the bedroom. Pepper appeared when they reached the room, seeing Peter for the first time. Emotions flitted across her face—shock and then sadness when it really seemed to sink in. She quickly covered it, beaming and rushing forward to hug Peter. Tony wasn’t sure how the kid would take it. He was tactile but less so since the fall. To Tony’s surprise, Peter hugged her back. He was pretty sure he heard a huff of laughter, too. 

“Hey, Miss Potts.”

Pepper released him and smiled. “Okay, that’s got to stop. It’s Pepper or nothing, Peter.”

Peter nodded. “Yeah. Sorry. Pepper.”

“How are you doing?” she asked. 

“I’m good.” And Tony was inclined to believe him. There weren’t any of his usual tells. “Thank you for letting me stay here a while.”

Pepper waved away his thanks. “No, thank  _ you _ . I can’t tell you what a relief it is to have someone to share Tony’s obsessions with. You’ll keep him out from under my feet.”

Peter laughed. “I bet.”

Tony played along, enjoying the lightness. “Hey, I’m not that bad.”

“Tony, honey, the only time I don’t see you is when I’m in the office, and we both know that corporate life makes you break out in hives.”

Peter laughed again. He was really happy. It felt good to see it. 

“But when I’m home, you’re a pain in the ass.” She turned to Peter, eyebrow raised. “I’m relying on you to keep him occupied, Peter.”

“No problem. I’ll find ways to entertain him.”

Tony crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah, sure, laugh it up, but you both know you’d miss me if I wasn’t around.”

The air shifted, becoming a little heavier. 

Pepper’s expression sobered. “We would. Now, I’m sorry to duck out on you already, but we’re having trouble with our European operations , and I need to have a very angry conversation in my best schoolgirl French.”

“Problem s ?” Tony asked.

She patted his cheek. “ Yeah , but I can handle it. Stark Industries doesn’t need to take a share drop because you decide to use you r very special version of people management.” 

Pepper pecked his lips and then turned, heading toward the elevators. 

Tony rubbed his hands together. “Okay. Your room.”

He led Peter to the room that he’d picked out and opened the door with a grand gesture. He stood with a grin on his face as Peter wheeled inside, looking around suspiciously, perhaps looking for the places Tony went too far, and then his eyes found the Iron Man poster, and he rolled his eyes. 

“That’s a whole lot of your face.”

Tony frowned. “That’s what Pepper said. Why is that a bad thing?”

Peter laughed, shaking his head. “It’s not a bad thing, but you need to know it’s not staying. Even being stuck in the chair isn’t going to stop me taking that thing down.”

May, who’d been trailing them, laughed. “You know, he’s got a point, Tony. That is pretty weird. I’m not sure I could sleep with you staring down at me.”

“It’s not so bad.”

Peter raised a brow. “If you don’t think so, I’ll have Happy put it on your ceiling so you can wake up looking at it.”

May gave a fake shudder. “No, Peter, that’s too cruel. Think of Pepper. She doesn’t deserve that.”

Tony sighed , but he was enjoying the lightness. “Fine. We’ll take it down. Peter, check out the bathroom. I’ll get us a drink. You want wine, May?”

“I’d love some, but I’ve picked up the late shift, so rain check?”

She followed him into the kitchen, and they heard Peter’s voice echoing in the vast bathroom. “Whoa, this is huge. I’m going to get lost in here.”

Tony was pleased. Peter didn’t sound upset about the shower chair that he’d set up in there. It was a necessity for Peter to be independent. 

Tony started a pot of coffee , and May took a seat at the island. “It went well,” she said, voice low.

“Better than I expected. He’s doing great.”

“He is. I was worried about leaving him here.” Tony raised his brows, but she rushed on. “Not because I didn’t trust you to thank care of him. It’s just I knew where he was in  the  hospital, people were always with him. I thought he’d be more nervous, too.”

“I’ll be here, and so will Pepper. I promise we’ll take care of him, and your room is two down from Peter’s, so you can stay here as much as you like.”

“I think I’ll give him a couple nights here without me, let him settle and make the space his own with you, and then I’ll stay. I think it’s important that he is secure here, relying on you, before I step in since I won’t be here all the time the way you will.”

“I will,” he promised. 

“I know.”

Peter wheeled into the kitchen, skidding to a stop beside the island that was way too high. They’d not thought of that. May looked stricken , and Tony froze, hand hovering beside the coffee maker. Peter shrugged and wheeled himself around to the fridge and got a soda. Someone, probably Pepper, was smart enough to move the snacks and drinks around , so Peter’s stuff was within reach , and the fruit and vegetables were higher up. Tony felt a rush of gratitude to her. 

Peter popped his can open. “Horror movies and PJs tonight?”

Tony breathed a sigh of relief. He’d been worried Peter wouldn’t settle, that he wouldn’t be as comfortable here as he was at home, but he seemed perfectly happy. 

“If we have pizza, too, you’ve got a deal. Nightmare on Elm Street?”

“Sure.”

May rolled her eyes. “I’m not at all disappointed that I’m missing that to work. Bad retro horror is not my idea of a good evening.”

Peter’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Freddie Kruger is not bad horror, he’s one of the best, and…” He grinned. “We both know you get nightmares when you watch anything scary.”

May threw a napkin from the holder at him. “I do not!”

Peter shrugged, taking a sip of soda. “I’ve heard you screaming in your sleep. It’s fine. We can’t all be hardcore.”

She slid from her stool, wrapping him in a hug. “We can’t, and no one is as hardcore as you, honey. You’re amazing.”

Peter flushed and ducked his head, but Tony could see his smile. The kid seemed happy, and that was all Tony could want.


	21. Chapter 21

Tony was worried. Peter had gone to his room to get something ten minutes ago, and he hadn’t come out since. He’d killed time in the kitchen, wandered into the living room, and flopped down on the couch, but he couldn’t wait any longer. What if Peter had fallen out of his chair or something worse?

He went to the door, rapping his knuckles against the wood. “Pete? You okay in there?”

There was a gasp and then a quick, “I’m fine.”

“What are you doing?” Tony asked.

“You really don’t want to know.”

Tony’s brow furrowed, and he leaned against the door. “You need help?”

“Definitely not,” Peter said with strained laughter. “Just give me a few more minutes.”

“You haven’t fallen or anything, have you?”

“No! I’m just doing something that I _do not_ need help for—really.”

Tony fingers found the handle without him being aware of it, but he stopped himself before he’d done more than started to turn it.

“Mr. Stark!” Peter shrieked. “Do _not_ come in here. I promise you, you don’t want to see what I’m doing.”

“Okay. Sorry, sorry. I’ll wait in the living room.”

He rushed back to the couch and sat down, his mind trying to puzzle out what Peter could be doing. There was one reason a sixteen-year-old boy might want private time, but since he had no feeling below the waist, he was sure it wasn’t that. But he was worried. What could Peter be doing that he was that he didn’t want Tony seeing? It wasn’t like he didn’t trust him, but his thoughts were going down a darker path. Peter had seemed anxious before he went to his room, distracted. He had to ask.

It was another ten minutes before he heard Peter’s door open and he wheeled in. He was flushed and awkward looking, and when he stopped his chair beside the couch, he asked, “So, what do you want to do?”

Tony sat forward. “Look, Pete, I want you to have the space and privacy you need here, I do, but I have to know what you were doing in there.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “What? Why?”

“Because I’m worried. I know you’re on that medication, and you’re speaking to someone, but like you said, that’s not a magic wand or something. I know some people, kids, have other ways of dealing with stress and their feelings that aren’t smart.”

Peter looked puzzled, and then he sighed heavily through his nose. He shook his head. “Are you asking if I’m a cutter?”

Tony nodded, equal parts worried and anxious for the answer.

Peter laughed, and it was light and without bitterness. “No, I’m not a cutter. I was peeing.”

Tony’s mouth dropped open. “Oh. I didn’t—I mean … How does that work? No! You don’t need to tell me. I just mean—nothing. Never mind.”

Peter stared at him for a moment and then said, “It involves a pee bag and tube a few times a day and lots of handwashing. And _privacy_.”

“Sorry, Pete. I should have guessed. Or known. I guess I’m seeing now that this thing is more complicated than I realized. I won’t interrupt again.”

Peter shrugged. “It’s fine—really, not a big deal.”

Pepper walked in with the brown boxes piled in her arms. She looked around the room and said, “Okay, what did I interrupt?”

Tony awkwardly tried to think of something to say. “Oh … uh … nothing?”

Peter started to laugh. “Mr. Stark was just getting a lesson on paraplegic life that he wasn’t expecting.”

Pepper looked from Tony’s stricken face to Peter’s amused one and shrugged. “It must be a male thing. Anyway, I’ve got something for you both. I figured it would keep you out of trouble while I worked. You’ve not got PT today, have you, Peter?”

“I do, but it’s not for an hour.”

She considered. “I think even you will need longer than an hour for this, but I guess you can get started.”

She carried the boxes to the table and set them down. “Tony, yours is the one on top. I figured we should start you out small. Peter, you’ve got the big one since I know you can handle it.”

Sharing a curious look, they both went to the table and took their boxes. Peter was the first into his, and he pulled out a Lego kit for the Millennium Falcon. His eyes widened, and he turned the box over. “Pepper! This is awesome! Thank you!”

She patted his shoulder. “You’re welcome.”

Tony noted the fact Peter accepted the gift from her even though he kicked up a stink if Tony spent more of him than the price of a sandwich, and those kits were expensive. He’d looked them up for Peter’s Christmas present and figured he’d never accept it. Instead, he’d built Peter the custom tablet since he always took things Tony made for him.

He wondered if he could use Pepper next time he wanted to buy Peter a gift and then dismissed the idea. She’d never let him.

Tony opened his and found a mini Hogwarts that’s advisory age was seven years old. “Really, Pep? You don’t think I could handle anything a little tougher?”

She patted his head. “I know you’re a genius, but I also know your limitations. I think that kit is perfect.” She checked her watch. “Okay, I’ve got to run. Have fun, boys.”

They said their goodbyes and she left. Peter opened his box and tipped what looked like a couple hundred small bags of colored bricks onto the table, then unfolded a huge set of instructions and began examining them.

Tony scoffed. “Instructions, Pete?”

Peter gave him a knowing look. “You do it your way. I’ll do it mine. We’ll see whose looks better when it’s done.”

Tony rolled his eyes. He was amused that the kid actually thought he was going to be any kind of competition. Peter was smart, damn smart, but he was also young, and Tony had been building things longer than the kid had been alive. He wasn’t about to be beaten by a sixteen-year-old with a set of plastic bricks. 

xXx

“You ready?”

Peter gripped the handle of the barre that Tony insisted was there for Pepper, and the new physical therapist, Mike, held his other hand. He knew the barre wasn’t there for Pepper, the look on her face confirmed it when Tony had said it was, but he was grateful for it as it was helping him recover.

He’d been working on this for two weeks without telling anyone, the only one that knew what he was doing was his physical therapist, and he wasn’t ready to tell anyone else. If he couldn’t pull off what he wanted, he’d look stupid, weak, so he wasn’t setting himself up for a fall, and a fall was exactly what he was hoping to avoid.

He nodded and said, “I’m ready.”

Mike released his hand and stepped back, though Peter knew he was ready to jump into action if Peter looked like he was going down. Peter took a breath and took a step with only one hand on the barre. It was steady, he was in control, and he felt a rush of happiness.

He was really doing it.

“And now the tough part,” Mike said. “I’m right here.”

Mike was much better than his old physical therapist. He encouraged him without sheltering him, though he was still careful.

Peter relaxed his grip on the barre and took another step. He was steady, and he started to laugh. He felt Mike’s hand on his back, ready to catch him, but he was in control. He could do this. He took another step and then another until he was in the middle of the room, standing beside the arm bike Tony brought.

“I’m doing it!” 

“Yeah, you are. You ready to try a turn?”

“Definitely.”

He knew how it worked. He just had to turn his upper body, and the braces would do the rest. He did it carefully, taking a step, and then he was moving again. He started to feel more confident, so he went faster, amazed at himself. He figured that this must be like what learning to walk felt like. He really did feel confident now, like he was finally in control of the whole thing.

He walked back to the barre and stopped to rest for a moment with his hand on the rail. It was more tiring than walking had been before, but he figured endurance would come with time.

“How do you feel?”

“Like you can’t even imagine.”

“No, I don’t think I can. I’ve never seen anything like this before. I mean, we all heard about Colonel Rhodes, and I’ve seen him on TV, but seeing it in person. Your dad really is a genius.”

“He is.” Peter was proud of Tony and the things he achieved. 

“What do you want to do now?”

“I want to…” He bit his lip. Was he ready for this? Was it the right time? What if he fell on his ass again? He felt a surge of confidence. He had to do it sooner or later, might as well get it over with. “Friday, can you ask Mr. Stark to come to the gym.”

“Of course.”

Mike was looking around the room. “Okay, where did that voice come from?”

“That’s Friday. She’s the tower’s AI interface.”

“The tower has an AI interface?” Mike chuckled. “Of course it does.”

Peter released the barre and walked a few steps away, wiping the sweat off his brow with his shirt.

He heard fast footsteps, and the door flew open. Tony charged into the room. He looked worried. His eyes were a little wild. He skidded to a halt and stared.

“Peter …”

Peter took a step forward, and Tony’s hands flew up as if to catch him, but then they dropped, and a look of awe covered his face. He stared as Peter walked toward him and then came to a stop a foot in front of him.

“Hey.”

Tony laughed. “Hey.”

He pulled Peter into a hug and pulled his head into this neck. Peter could feel Tony’s breaths coming quick and he worried.

“Tony?”

Tony held him a little tighter and then straightened up, holding Peter at arm’s length. His eyes were wet and there were tears on his cheeks, but he was beaming.

“Look at you! How long have you been doing this?”

Peter was a little embarrassed by Tony’s obvious pleasure. “Uh … We’ve been trying a while, building up control, but today was kinda the breakthrough.”

“He’s been committed,” Mike said. “Best patient I ever had.”

Tony wiped at his face and laughed. “Committed is the word. Pete, this is amazing. I can’t believe it. Do you know how long it took Rhodey to get this good?”

Peter ducked his head, shrugging a little. “He said it was a while. I get it. It’s not easy.”

Tony turned serious. “You’re tired? You want to sit down for a while?”

Peter sighed, not wanting to hide anything. “Yeah. But I’ve got it.” He turned and walked to the row of leather couches under the window where he and Tony had sometimes sat and rehydrated after a workout. He sat down on the edge, by the arm, so he could get himself up easier, and relaxed back.

Tony was watching him, clearly impressed, then he walked to the couch and dropped down beside him. “Hell, kid, you kept that quiet.”

Peter shrugged. “I didn’t want to disappoint you if I couldn’t pull it off. It’s hard.”

“You’d never disappoint me,” Tony said, earnestly. “Never. You are constantly amazing. You’re a hero, Pete, and not just in the conventional way.”

Mike cleared his throat. “I’ve got to head out for my next appointment. Peter, I’ll be back tomorrow so we can do some more work. You going to be okay getting those things off?”

“I’ll help him,” Tony said.

“Great. Don’t overdo it. We’ve got plenty of time.”

“I know.” Though Peter wanted to work hard, to get good, as he was excited about being in the braces now. He’d have so much more freedom once he got a handle on them. 

Mike left, and Tony instructed Friday to put some music on. They just sat together for a while, not talking, though Peter could feel the happiness radiating out of Tony.

“Tony, can you teach me to get the braces on and off alone?”

“Sure. I don’t think you’ll have a problem with it. You do all the other dressing stuff alone. According to Rhodey, the only tough bit is getting them right around the ankles. Why?”

Peter grinned. “I have an idea for May…”

Tony listened as Peter extolled on his plan, his smile growing with every word. When Peter was done, Tony was nodding.

“Yeah, that’s great, but I think you’re thinking too small.”

Peter was surprised. He thought it was a pretty big deal.

Tony went on eagerly. “This is bigger than May. We need to get Pepper, Ned, Happy and Rhodey in on it, too—even Bruce,” Tony said. “What do you think?”

Peter smiled. If he was going to do this, he might as well do it for them all at once. “I think that’s great.”

Tony wrapped an arm around his shoulders and gave him a squeeze. “This, kid, is going to be awesome.”

xXx

Tony was vibrating with excitement. He knew Pepper and May had probably noticed, but he wasn’t tipping his hand. He avoided and dodged their questions. Peter seemed a little nervous, but that made sense, given the task he had ahead of him. The kid was in his chair, giving Ned a tour of the tower, which, from the sounds of pleasure Ned was making, was going well. They were currently on the landing pad, looking out over the city.

Turning away from the window that looked out to the landing pad, Tony went back to the kitchen, setting the table for dinner while May and Pepper sat with glasses of wine. Rhodey leaned against the counter, watching Tony with amusement.

“Very domesticated, Tony.”

Tony shrugged. “I guess it’s fatherhood. Having my kid living with me has given me a whole different view on home life.”

May laughed, and Pepper called over, “Yeah, ask him how to work the dishwasher _without_ Friday.”

Rhodey looked expectant, and Tony shrugged again. “Why do I need to know what the buttons and dials do when I can just close the door and tell Friday to turn it on?”

Rhodey laughed. “I think sometimes you’re a little spoiled with that brain of yours.”

“Sometimes?” Pepper laughed.

“Good point. You’re _definitely_ spoiled with that brain.”

Tony tipped his head to the side. “Those that can, do, those that can’t, invent an interface to do it for them.”

Rhodey’s expression sobered, and he lowered his voice. “You going to tell me why you’ve invited me over? You’ve been putting off visits since Peter moved in, and then you call me out of the blue and demand I come over.”

“Demand?”

Rhodey crossed his arms over his chest. “Yes. Demand.”

Tony grinned. “I can’t tell you, but soon you’ll see. I promise it’s worth it.”

Friday announced Happy was on his way, and Tony instructed her to call Peter and Ned, then went to open the door. Happy was holding a pile of pizza boxes, looking a little annoyed.

“You know, when most people have guests for dinner, they don’t ask them to bring the food.”

“I know, I know, sorry, it’s just you’re faster than delivery.”

“You know who’s faster than me? Iron Man. You could have strapped on the suit and got it here yourself.”

He squeezed Happy’s elbow. “I could. I’m sorry. Next time I will.”

Happy seemed surprised to see so many people, but after a quizzical look at Rhodey, who just shrugged, he took a beer from the counter and sat down at the table with May and Pepper. Rhodey joined them, and then Peter and Ned came in. Bruce slipped in a moment later, a little bedraggled, but smiling.

“What did you think of the tower, Ned?” May asked, taking a sip of wine.

Ned was so excited he was almost shaking. “It’s _so_ cool. I saw Mr. Stark’s workshop and everything, and have you seen that view?”

“I have. It’s pretty amazing.”

“I can’t believe you get to live here, Peter. Like being a superhero isn’t cool enough, you live in a real superhero’s lair.”

Tony tensed, wondering how Peter would react to being called a superhero. He knew Peter didn’t think he was one anymore. They were all watching, but Peter just shrugged and said, “Yeah, it’s pretty awesome.”

Tony set the pizza boxes down, and Ned hurried to the table, but Peter shot Tony a quick look, getting a nod, and said, “I’ll be right back.”

“The food is ready, Peter,” May scolded. “Whatever it is can wait.”

Peter grimaced. “It really can’t, but don’t wait for me. I’ll only be a minute. Just save me a couple slices.”

Tony could see May wasn’t happy, but Peter wheeled himself away, and Tony heard his bedroom door close behind him. He was getting excited now. If Peter could pull this off, and he believed he could, it was going to mean a lot to everyone there, May especially. She was there for every step of it, each struggle, and the times they thought they’d lost him for good. She needed this moment.

“We can wait,” Pepper said with a polite smile.

“No. It’ll get cold,” May said. “He’s doing whatever is important to a sixteen-year-old boy, and if that means he eats cold pizza, that’s his own fault.”

Ned grabbed a slice from the box Tony was holding out to him and said, “Nothing wrong with cold pizza. It’s a great breakfast food. It’s what me and Peter what when you’re working, May.”

May pretended to look affronted. “You mean Peter doesn’t cook you proper meals when you stay over? He told me you two made French toast.”

“Oh … Yeah, we do that, too. We only had pizza one time, and we made it ourselves, and—”

“She’s messing with you, kid,” Happy said, and Tony couldn’t help his smile.

Ned breathed a sigh of relief and took a bite of his pizza.

They were all eating, but Tony was listening hard for the sounds of Peter coming back. He was worried that Peter was having trouble with the braces, or that he’d fallen, but he had to let Peter do it.

Then he heard him coming. He looked at Rhodey, who was grinning as the braces make a distinctive sound. Realization dawned around the room, and eyes moved to the doorway to the bedrooms. A moment later, Peter walked in. He was steady, not sweating like he had in the gym because he hadn’t been pushing himself too hard. He was smiling, too.

May clapped a hand to her mouth, and her eyes filled with tears, and then she was on her feet, rushing toward Peter. No one else seemed to be breathing.

May stared at Peter, placing a hand on his face. Peter raised his arms, and she stepped into them, hugging him tight enough to make Peter sway.

Tony watched, feeling the joy of the moment. May was crying and Peter patting her back. Pepper reached for his hand and squeezed it. He looked at her and saw her happiness, but there was also understanding. She knew just how big this moment was to him, too.

May stepped back and held Peter’s face. “My boy …” She wiped away her tears. “You’re incredible.”

Rhodey started clapping, and they all joined. Peter’s face flushed with color, and he looked like he wanted to disappear, but everyone was smiling. Ned did a double finger whistle, and Peter laughed. With May at his side, he walked to the table and carefully took the seat that May pulled out for him. He looked around, eyes shining but still embarrassed and grabbed a slice. He took a bite and said around his mouthful, “Knew it wouldn’t get cold.”

Pepper leaned to the side and kissed Tony’s cheek. She pushed his hair back and whispered, “Feel it, Tony, it’s over.”

And Tony realized she was partially right. The very worst days were over. It was all recovery from here. Peter was walking in his new way. He was happy. Things were good.

This was the upside after way too long of careening down and then struggling up again.

And they all made it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://ibb.co/47xtxpp)  
>   
> Artwork by Monireh89 on Tumblr. Link to her tumblr [here](https://monireh89.tumblr.com/). You should check out the other works she's done. She's amazing.


	22. Chapter 22

Peter clicked the last piece of Lego in place and leaned back. “Done!”

“That’s great, Peter,” Pepper said with a smile. “It looks incredible.”

Tony frowned, eyeing Peter’s creation. “Yeah, it does. Well done, kid.”

“How’s yours going?”

Pepper and Peter both stared at him as he shifted in his seat. He wasn’t even close to done. It wasn’t his fault, though. Legos were apparently created with frustrating the user in mind. Peter made it looked more straightforward than it was, though maybe that had something to do with their different approaches. Peter sorted his pieces and followed the instructions, while Tony relied on his engineering degree. Who needed directions when you were a genius? 

“It’s coming along. Who’s hungry?”

“Tony,” Pepper said his name carefully. “Where is yours?”

“He had to move it to the lab because he needed better lights,” Peter said. 

Tony huffed. Peter was such a little shit sometimes. He probably knew that Tony’s hadn’t come out well, and it wasn’t like Tony had kept his ego in check. He’d been a little smug, at least at the start. That was until the pieces began to click together, and he was faced with a leaning tower of rubble instead of Hogwarts castle. 

“Let’s go look,” Pepper chirped.

“No, no, we don’t need to do that,” Tony hurriedly. “Let’s watch a movie. Or I’ll start dinner?”

Pepper’s eyes lit with amusement. “You’re going to cook? What are you hiding, Stark?”

“I think he’s shy about showing his progress.” Peter shifted the chair back and carefully got to his feet. He took a breath and then started walking toward the workshop. 

“Peter! Wait!” 

This was a nightmare come to life. Once they saw his project, he was going to be facing a very smug kid and an amused Pepper. He wasn’t used to failing when he set his sights on something. He was a mechanic, an engineer. This should have been child’s play, and the fact that Peter’s project had had even more pieces and looked like it needed a degree to put together made his progress even more mortifying. 

Peter wasn’t stopping. 

Pepper grinned at Tony and said, “I think I need to see this.”

Tony trudged after them into the workshop where, among the debris of his usual work, were the results of his attempts to build a magical castle covered with a rag. 

Peter reached the workbench and looked around at the pile of tools, pieces of metal, and stray Legos. “Where is it?”

Tony sighed, knowing he was defeated. “Under the grey rag.”

Peter picked it up and stopped dead, the rag hanging limp in his hand. Then a laugh bubbled out of him, and he gripped the side of the bench as he began to rock with laughter. 

Pepper examined the shell of what would be a small house for a Lego man without a roof. 

There was no point in hiding the truth. He knew he might as well come clean. “That’s the twenty-first attempt. It went progressively downhill after the third.”

Then they were both laughing, and Tony started to chuckle, too. He was embarrassed, but he couldn’t deny how good it felt to hear them laugh. 

Peter wiped at his eyes, chest heaving as he caught his breath. “You didn’t look at the instructions, did you?”

Tony crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t need instructions. At least I didn’t think I did until the fifth attempt, and I’d already lost them by then.”

“Poor Tony,” Pepper consoled. “It must be hard to be a genius sometimes, especially with your extra dose of stubbornness.”

Peter snorted. “Do you have all the pieces? I can help you make it.”

“I might have tried to modify some to make them fit. Lego is very breakable.”

Peter just shook his head as he broke into another round of laughter. 

“I’ll buy you another one.” Pepper patted his arm. “And Peter can help you _with_ instructions.”

“Honestly, Pep, there’s no need. I’m happier building things that actually matter.”

Peter was grinning. “Probably a good idea.”

Tony checked his watch. “We should head out soon, Peter. We’ve got to meet Harrison and Molly in thirty minutes.”

Peter nodded, gave the shameful Lego structure another glance, and said, “I’ll just get the braces off.”

Pepper gave Tony a curious look, and he shook his head. He hadn’t told Peter about Harrison. He wanted him to have a surprise for a change. 

“Leave them on, Pete. Harrison would like to see you in them.”

Peter hesitated. “I don’t know … It’s not really fair.”

Tony placed a hand on his arm. “Trust me, Peter, he’ll want to see them.”

Peter shrugged. “Okay.”

Peter headed out, and Tony went to follow, but Pepper caught his arm. 

“What?” he asked. 

“Harrison is in the braces now, right?”

“He is, and the control he’s got of them is—” Tony whistled. “Maybe it’s because he’s younger, but he took to them with hardly any of the struggle Peter or Rhodey had. He’s great, Pep.” 

“Okay then.”

“Trust me, I wouldn’t have set this meeting up if I didn’t think they were both ready for it, but Peter’s got a handle on them now, he’s doing good, and Harrison can show him what else he might be capable of. I wanted Peter to be able to run, and I think it’s possible with what I’m seeing of Harrison with his.”

Pepper nodded, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Okay. Have fun.”

Tony knew they would. He’d seen Harrison a few times when he was setting him up with the braces, and he knew how much the kid wanted to see Peter again. He thought Peter was ready now, too, so he would enjoy their reunion, watching them both walk on their own two feet.

xXx

The sun beat down, warming Peter’s face. He and Tony were sitting on a bench in the park, waiting for Harrison and his mother. The edges of worry were slowly closing in on Peter, making him unsure. He didn’t know what to expect of this meeting. He was looking forward to seeing Harrison again, but Peter would be walking, and Harrison would not. It seemed unfair that Harrison had to be in the chair and see Peter walking. 

It was also the first time that he’d been out since leaving the hospital. It was a lot easier than he had expected it to be. He finally had a handle on how he felt. The medication and techniques he’d learned from the therapist helped, too. Overall, he was just in a better place than before. He had settled in his new life and could cope when he struggled now.

His eyes combed the park, assessing like he would have as Spider-Man, searching the landscape for issues. When he realized what he was doing, he forced himself to stop. He didn’t need to look for threats. He wasn’t Spider-Man anymore. And surprisingly, that thought didn’t hurt as much as it used to. 

“Head’s up, kid.”

Peter looked around, scanning the paths for a wheelchair, but he couldn’t spot one. He wondered what Tony had seen and was about to ask but stopped when he heard his name being called excitedly from nearby. Peter’s gaze followed the sound, and his eyes went wide when he saw a kid walking beside a familiar woman. 

Peter stared as Harrison hurried toward him, moving faster in the braces than Peter had ever managed before, and his face was shining. 

Harrison reached him, beaming. He was shorter than Peter but taller than he’d looked in the chair and the bed. And he was far happier now than ever before, and Peter had thought he was one of the happiest people he’d ever met back then. 

Harrison looked him up and down and said, “You got them, too! Cool. Mr. Stark made me some, but I wasn’t allowed to tell you.” He did a little sidestep shuffle that Peter couldn’t manage on his best day and said, “Aren’t they awesome?”

“They are,” Peter agreed. “You want to sit?”

Harrison shook his head. “Nuh-uh, I want to walk with you.”

Tony patted Peter’s shoulder. “You two go ahead. I want to talk to Molly about something.”

Harrison waved to his mom and hurried off. Peter started after him, careful not to push too fast and fall over. 

Harrison looked back over his shoulder. “Sorry.” He waited, falling into step beside Peter. “Mr. Stark says I’m a prodigy with the braces, but you’ll get good, too. I’m going to run one day. Mr. Stark says he can’t make promises, but _I know_ I’ll be able to. He’s a genius. He made me walk.”

“He did, he made us both walk. How’s it going being back on your feet?” 

“It’s better. It sucks a little not being as fast as I was in my chair, I don’t win the races anymore, not yet, but walking is great. I’m taller than most of my friends, but we never knew because I was always sitting down. I like being tall.”

Peter laughed. “Yeah, I bet that’s great. You get on okay at school?”

Harrison laughed. “It was kinda cool at first. We didn’t tell anyone what was going on, and I had to go in my chair in case I got tired, so no one knew. I waited until I was called on, and I just stood up. It was great. Everyone was surprised, and then they were cheering.”

Peter remembered the moment he walked for May and the others. It had been a special moment, though embarrassing. Seeing their happiness had meant a lot, especially May’s. It had felt good to see her so happy after everything he’d put her through. 

“How’s your school?”

“I … uh … I haven’t gone back yet.”

Harrison looked suddenly wise. “Yeah. I get that. I didn’t like it either.”

“Did everyone stare?”

“Yeah, but that was because my chair was so cool.” Harrison grinned. “Kinda. They stared, and they asked questions, and one kid asked if they could stick their pen in my leg to see if he could make it hurt, but they got used to it.”

Peter hadn’t thought of going back to school, though he knows he should. He didn’t feel ready, though. No one else was talking about it, which was good, but they would eventually. There were only four weeks until school broke for summer. 

“Will you go back soon?” Harrison asked. 

“Yeah, soon.”

Maybe he could wait until the new year and then go back. He could do classes at home until then, so he didn’t fall behind. He figured he’d talk to Tony about it first as he thought he’d be more reasonable about it than May. 

They got to the end of the path by the gate, and Harrison did a swift turn while Peter’s was more careful. 

They headed back towards Tony and Molly, who were talking intently on the bench. Peter wondered what they were talking about. It looked serious, and he was thinking of them while listening to Harrison talk about his friends at school and planning an overseas trip over summer for the first time since his accident now that he didn’t have the bag. 

When they reached Tony and Molly, they looked up and smiled. 

“You two having fun?” Tony asked.

“Yeah. You?”

Tony stared at him for a moment and then shifted along the bench. “There’s something I’d like to talk to you about, talk to both of you actually, since you two are the ones that gave me the idea.”

Peter took a seat, but Harrison stood and shuffled about as if he couldn’t resist the urge to move now that he could. 

“I’ve been thinking,” Tony said carefully. “With what I did for you, Rhodey and Harrison, I can see what’s possible, and I’d like to extend that to others. Kids at first, but if it takes off and we get the support, create an industry, adults, too. Harrison is proof of what younger kids could be capable of with the braces. I want to give that to others.”

Peter’s heart skipped a beat, and his eyebrows shot up. “Really? Like, make the braces for other kids?”

“That’s the idea. Pepper is in on it, and she’s getting the board in, too. I think we can do some real good here.”

Peter nodded a few times. “Yes! You have to! Wow. It would be huge for so many people.”

Tony smiled. “Then we’ll get to work. It’s going to mean work for you two, especially you, Harrison. We’re going to need you to show people what you can do with them. It’d mean being filmed walking and—”

Harrison cut him off. “Am I going to be on TV?”

Tony laughed. “Eventually, yeah. Though it’ll just be boring old people in suits that’ll see them.”

Harrison grinned. “That’s fine. I can wait.” He looked at his mother. “Right, Mom? I can do it?”

She nodded. “Mr Stark has given you an amazing gift, Harri, and if making you a poster child is what it takes to make that possible for other families, it’s what we’ll do.”

“He won’t be a poster child. Not really. We can work something out.”

Harrison’s lip stuck out. “No! I want to be famous.”

Peter grinned. “Then stick around with Mr. Stark. Making dreams come true is what he does.”

Tony looked surprised but pleased, and Molly leaned forward and squeezed her son’s hand. “He definitely does.”

Harrison did a little sidestep again, looking excited. “Awesome. Come on. Peter!”

He hurried off, and Peter went after him. He wondered what it meant for them to take on Tony’s plan. He didn’t want to be a poster child, but if it gave other paralyzed people the chance to walk again, he’d do it. 

Tony did make dreams come true, and Peter would do his part to make that possible for others. 


	23. Chapter 23

The tightness in Peter’s chest was what woke him. His throat and chest felt tight, and every breath he took pulled on his throat, making him wheeze. He tried to sit up and calm himself, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. It had been years since he’d had an asthma attack, but he remembered it was important not to panic. 

There was a soft knock on the door, and he cursed. He’d made too much noise and woken Tony. 

“Peter? Can I come in?”

It was worse than waking Tony. He had woken Pepper.

“Sure.” Peter straightened the blankets, his lungs still wheezing with every breath.

Pepper crossed the room, her expression tight with concern. She hesitated but sat on the edge of the bed. Peter tried to force a smile, but he was sure it came out more like a grimace. 

Pepper frowned. “This isn’t an anxiety attack.”

Peter was surprised, though he shouldn’t have been. Of course, Tony would have told her about his panic attacks. He wasn’t sure he liked her knowing, though. It made him feel exposed and weak, but then he remembered that Tony had them, too, and felt a little better. 

“Asthma,” he wheezed. 

A line appeared between her brows. “Has it happened before?”

“Used to,” he said, between breaths, “before Spider-Man.”

Nodding, she patted his hand and then got up, leaving the room. A moment later, she returned with an inhaler. Peter felt a wave of relief. His neck felt tired from taking strained breaths. 

She passed it to him, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Go on. It’ll help.”

Peter took a couple hits from the inhaler, and within seconds, the tightness began to ease, and he could take a breath without straining. Pepper kept rubbing his arm, a reassuring smile on her face. 

When he got his breathing under control, he asked, “You have asthma?”

“Only when my allergies are bad. I hardly use the inhaler the rest of the time. I keep it handy, though.” The frown lines of her forehead deepened, and she studied his face. “This is the first time since Spider-Man?”

It saddened him that he had regressed more, that he was becoming who he used to be, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it, so he shrugged. “I guess I’m really losing it now. You know about that, right?”

“Yeah. Tony told me before your accident. Actually, he was telling me when we got the call. We’ve not spoken about it since.” She hesitated. “How do you feel about it?”

Peter was breathing easily again. He toyed with the inhaler in his hand. “Honestly, it sucks a little, but Spider-Man, most of it, is over now anyway. It would have been much harder if I’d not had the accident, but I figure it was good while it lasted.”

Pepper nodded, seeming sad. “You really are amazing, Peter. I don’t think I could have been as brave as you.”

Peter laughed. “I wasn’t brave. I was a mess. I was such an as—I was horrible to May and Tony, really, but they kept coming back, day after day.”

“Because they love you. I’d have been there, too, if I could, but Tony felt it was better that I didn’t come and crowd you.”

“It was probably better that way, not that I wouldn’t have liked to see you, but I really wasn’t great company.”

She smiled. “I wouldn’t have minded, but I’m glad you’re here now.” She patted his back. “How do you feel?”

“All good.” He held out the inhaler to her. “You should take this.”

“No, you hang onto it for now. You’ll need to see your own doctor, though. You might need different ones.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to May about it.” 

Pepper looked like she wanted to say something, and Peter had a feeling what. Tony needed to know, too. The time for secrets was passed. It was time for honesty.

“I’ll tell Tony, too.”

Her smile grew, and she nodded. “Good. You need anything?”

“Nope.” He leaned over, dragging the wheelchair closer, so he could head to the bathroom and take a shower. He wasn’t confident enough in the braces to use them on a wet floor. 

Pepper stood, watching as he maneuvered himself into the chair. There was something in her eyes that he could define. 

“You okay?” he asked.

“You really are amazing, Peter, you know that, right?”

He laughed, ducking his head a little. “I think you’re pretty great, too, Pepper.”

She beamed at him and slipped out of the room. Peter watched her go, thinking of how lucky he was. Despite everything, he felt in control. Before the accident, an asthma attack, knowing it was back, would have wrecked him, but it was just another step on his journey to becoming Peter Parker again—the regular kid.

And that wasn’t so bad. 

xXx

Tony could tell Peter was nervous; the kid’s hands were twisting in his lap. Peter was in the chair as they wanted to make the reveal as big as possible for the board. These people cared about money, and they needed to see how much they could make with this project. Pepper swore the money was going to be made from the insurance companies and that this wasn’t going to be some kind of income lottery. 

And if they couldn’t get them on board, Tony would do it with his own money. He had more than enough. He would make this work. But if they could do it with Stark Industries behind them, with their manufacturing capabilities and contacts, it would be easier. 

“Well, Mr. Stark, we understand you have proof of your invention,” one of the board members said. 

Peter glanced at him, and Tony nodded, whispering to him. “You’ve got it, kid.”

Peter nodded, wheeling the chair back and moving his feet from the rests. Everyone was watching, but Peter seemed to keep his cool. Tony held his breath as Peter began to shift in the chair. He knew how good Peter had become with the braces, he knew he could handle it, but if something went wrong, it could kick a hole in the plan for the board. 

With steady arms, Peter pushed himself to his feet, taking a small step forward. The board members murmured and nodded, and Peter shot Tony a look before doing a side-step and then beginning to walk confidently around the table of people. He came back to where his chair sat, giving a small ironic bow. 

The murmuring increased, and Tony started to hear words coming through that eased his concerns. “Incredible,” one said, and from a few seats away, someone else said, “The potential…”

“What was the extent of the damage before the braces?” 

Bruce stood up and touched a panel that brought up a hologram of the x-ray in front of them all. The broken vertebrae was clear, but Bruce pointed to it for emphasis. “Peter’s spine was broken at the T12 vertebrae. There was absolutely no movement below the waist, no possible recovery.”

Tony felt a small pang at the words, but he’d known for a while that Bruce wasn’t going to fix it. He just didn’t want to accept it. He still hadn’t pulled Bruce from the project because he wasn’t ready to give up. But he was getting closer. He was starting to accept things.

“How fast can you move, Mr. Parker?”

Peter shrugged and did a circuit around the table again, faster this time. Tony knew he was pushing himself, but he seemed steady enough. 

There were more murmurs and nods. Tony could see it was working. They were getting into the idea.

“I’m not as fast as Harrison,” Peter said. 

“Harrison is an eleven-year-old I fitted with braces, too,” Tony says. “He has much more control than Peter has achieved yet, but we think that’s because he’s younger, and he’s able to learn things faster.” He winked at Peter. “Age has its limitations.”

Peter rolled his eyes and said, “Harrison is great with them, though, and I think it’ll be even better with younger children.”

Someone tapped their notepad with a pen. “And are you planning to serve children with this project?”

“I plan to serve everyone that needs it,” Tony said, “but children are the ones I will prioritize at first since they’re the ones that need it the most, and they will be the easiest to work with. But Colonel Rhodes has the braces, too, and he was able to gain good control in time.”

A throat was cleared. “Can you do this with incomplete paralysis?”

Tony examined the woman. He didn’t recognize her. She wasn’t on the board when he had to deal with them before. “If the upper body is strong enough, I am sure I can.”

She nodded. “I would like to discuss them with you then.” She looked around the room. “You have my support.” 

Peter grinned and shuffled his feet slightly. 

“Does anyone have more questions?” Pepper asked. 

A couple hands were raised. “I do for Mr. Parker.”

Peter looked surprised but nodded. 

“Can you quantify the difference this has made to your life? Put a number on it.”

Peter frowned and considered a moment, possibly seeing the same profit margins that Tony did in the man’s eyes. “It’s given me my life in a whole different way. I have freedom now that I couldn’t have had before. You have some in the chair, you can do more for yourself, but walking is everything to me. A number?” He shook his head. “Think of the number you’d put on it if you lost the use of your legs, add a couple thousand to that, and that’s what it’s worth.”

The man smiled, jotting something down, seeming satisfied. 

The woman that asked about partial paralysis lifted her hand. “Is there pain using them?”

Peter shook his head. “No. It’s tiring at first, your muscles in your back ache where you can feel them, but that goes away when you get used to them.”

“And how difficult is it to get used to them?”

“I guess it’s probably as difficult as it is for a kid to learn to walk the first time, but none of us remember that, right?”

Tony ducked his head and smiled. He always hated dealing with the board, but Peter was handling them like a pro. He was relaxed and confident. 

“Any other questions?” Pepper asked. 

Hands were raised again, and Peter began to answer the questions that were fired at him. There was a theme to many of them, how much the braces were worth, but Peter kept batting them back and reminding them subtly of the value of their own lives and legs rather than the financial aspect of it. 

The questions moved between the board members as they began to discuss logistics and testing, and Peter took a seat back in the chair. He covered a cough in his hand and said, “I think we should get out of here.”

Confused, Tony nodded and addressed the room. “I think you’re done with us. You know where to find us if you have more questions. Peter’s at home in the tower right now.”

One of the men raised an eyebrow. “At home?”

Tony nodded. “Yeah, my kid is living with me right now.”

He could see their shock, and he could only guess what they were thinking. If Tony Stark had an heir, someone to pass on his shares to, it would impact them all. Enjoying their expressions, he turned and followed Peter out. 

He was grinning until they got outside the door, and Peter came to a stop, rooting through his pockets. He pulled out an inhaler and took a couple hits. 

Tony bent in front of him, worried. “You okay?”

Peter nodded. “Fine.” His voice was breathy, though, and he struggled to breathe. 

Tony was confused. He’d heard Pepper wheezing like this before when her allergies were bad, but he never knew Peter had asthma. It was never mentioned in the hospital. 

The door opened behind them, and Pepper came out. 

“You okay, Peter?” she asked. 

Peter nodded, rubbing his chest. 

Tony had questions, like why did Pepper seem so unsurprised by this, and he addressed while Peter worked through his breathing. 

“What’s going on?”

“Peter is having trouble with asthma again. He had it before the bite changed him. He had an attack this morning.”

Peter looked up at him. “I was going to tell you.”

“And you didn’t because?” His tone was a little harsh. 

Pepper gave him a disapproving look and squeezed his arm in warning. “Maybe because you were like a kid on crack this morning, working yourself up about this meeting. You were practicing your speech in front of the bathroom mirror and then rushing us out the door.” She narrowed her eyes. “We weren’t hiding anything from you.”

Tony felt a little bad for his attitude, he knew he had been a pain in the ass that morning, but he’d been so consumed with making this meeting work out how he wanted.

Peter seemed to get his breathing under control. 

“How’s it looking in there?” Tony asked Pepper. 

Pepper smiled and patted his arm. “They’re still talking it over, but you’ve sold McKenna on it already. Her granddaughter has partial paralysis in her legs after a horseback riding accident. She’s definitely on your side, and I’m guessing you’ll get a call soon from her. The others are talking figures still. But she’s got a lot of sway with them.”

“You think it’ll work?” Peter asked, hopefully. 

“I really do. They’re numbers people. They’re looking for a profit, but I’ll make sure that’s not what it becomes about. We _are_ going to get this to the people that need it, Peter, not the ones that can afford it.”

Peter grinned. “Awesome. I’ll have to call Harrison.”

“Tell him I’ll get a camera crew over to him as soon as we get the final go-ahead,” Tony said.

“I will. He’s still mad he didn’t get to come today to show what he can do.” Peter laughed. “He has no idea how boring those people are.”

“He’ll get his turn,” Tony said, “and you’ll have to call him later. You and me are going to the ER.”

“I don’t need the ER! I just need a regular doctor, and it’s not that urgent.”

“I disagree. Pepper, call May and tell her where we’re heading. Come on, kid, let’s get you checked out.”

Peter grumbled. “Okay. Fine.”

“Cheer up, Pete, if you’re a good boy, you might get a lollipop.”

Peter laughed and then coughed again. “I’ll make sure you get one, too.”

He didn’t get out of the chair again. Instead, wheeling himself to the elevator. Tony figured he must be tired. He’d really put on a show. This asthma thing worried Tony, though.

He kissed Pepper and followed Peter. Pepper called after them, “Let me know how it goes.”

“I will.”

Tony was a little more worried that he was letting on, and he imagined she was, too. Asthma was something they could deal with, though, and Peter seemed to be handling it well, but it was just another sign that Peter really wasn’t Spider-Man anymore.

As the elevator descended, Tony wondered if Peter would let him draw blood for Bruce to look at. Just so they knew what they were working with now. 

xXx

Peter ditched the chair as soon as he got back to the tower, feeling more energetic, going straight to the couch to chill with May. She had a couple hours before she needed to get to work, and Peter was looking forward to spending some time with her. Lately, she had been working nightshifts, so he hadn’t seen her much. 

He and May chatted, and then after a minute, Tony came in with coffees and a soda. He passed a coffee to May and the drink to Peter, who took it, popping it open and taking a sip. Tony sat down, but his gaze kept finding Peter, stealing glances, and it made Peter wonder what he was thinking. 

Peter could tell there was something he wanted, and he waited for Tony to say it. When he failed, his shoulders tense, Peter asked, “What’s up?” 

“I’d like Bruce to take some blood and run it through the system again.”

May gave him a sharp glance. “You need blood?”

Tony gave her a pointed look as if communicating something that made May scowl.

“What’s going on?” he asked. “What aren’t you saying?”

“Tony…” May warned. 

“It’s not about that,” Tony said. 

“About what?” Peter crossed his arms over his chest. “What are you hiding?”

“Do you trust us, Peter?” May asked. 

“Yeah. Of course.” 

“Then trust us that it doesn’t matter.”

Peter knew it did, though, and he thought he might already know what it was about. “So why do you want my blood? It’s just asthma. You heard what the doctor said.”

What she’d actually said was that asthma sometimes reoccurred in people that had lost symptoms and that they would treat with medication and observe it, but Peter wasn’t worried. 

“I think we should know where your body’s at with the changes. There might be side effects.”

Peter was puzzled. “Like what?” He thought on it, guessing at what Tony was saying. “You think if I lose the strength, it’s going to slow me down?”

Tony nodded. “It’s a concern, yes.”

Peter wasn’t worried. Maybe it would happen, but he’d just have to build up the muscles again that he needed. It’d suck, but he’d been through worse. He could handle a little hard work. 

Peter shrugged. “Okay. Then do it.” 

Tony looked surprised as if he’d been expecting a fight. Peter had no problem with knowing how far back he’d gone. It wasn’t a catastrophe anymore. It was just something else that was happening in the background. 

“I’ll go get Bruce.”

Tony strode out of the room, and May looked at Peter. “Are you okay with this?”

“Sure. Why not? It doesn’t matter to me anymore, not really, but Tony is …” He struggled to find the words. “He’s the kind of person that needs to know the facts. It probably won’t change anything for me, but it’ll be good for him.”

He might not be Spider-Man in the same way he used to be, not even physically anymore, but he could walk again, thanks to Tony, and his life felt a lot better than it had on the hospital’s worst days. He was actually happy now. 


	24. Chapter 24

Tony sipped his coffee, leaning against the counter in the kitchen. It was early, but he had a feeling Peter was up. He’d heard him moving around in the bedroom. Tony’s mind wandered to Pepper, and he thought that maybe he would take her out for breakfast when she got out of the shower. She deserved a day off, and he missed spending time with her. 

Footsteps approached that weren’t Peter’s. They didn’t have distinct whirring of the braces. He turned to see Bruce coming into the kitchen. The man looked worried, and it unsettled Tony a little. 

“Hey, Bruce. You want coffee?”

Bruce shook his head. “Where’s Peter?”

“Still getting dressed, I think. Why?”

“I need to talk to you. Can you come down to the lab?”

Concern burned bright in his chest, and he nodded, setting down his coffee and following him out. He told himself that it could be anything, there was no reason to believe it was something bad, but something about Bruce’s expression told him otherwise. He didn’t want to think about what could be wrong.

They got to the lab, and Bruce closed the door behind them, going to the microscope. He checked it then brought up a hologram. 

Tony examined it. It looked different now than it had before. He couldn’t make out what was going on. The cells seemed to be clashing and bouncing off of each other, and some of them looked too small, malformed. Some were bigger than they were before.

“What am I looking at?”

Bruce took a breath, seeming to steel himself. “There’s a change in the cells, and, Tony, it’s not good.”

His heart clenched painfully, but he tried to stay calm. He took a steadying breath and let it out slowly, conscious of the way the air left him. He needed to stay in control. He had to stay calm. 

“Tell me.”

Bruce pointed to one of the larger cells. “These are the mutated cells from the bite.”

“He’s still got them,” Tony said, “and there’s more of them. They look bigger, too. That’s good, right?” Part of him knew it wasn’t, though, but he had to hope. 

“They’re fighting back.”

“That is good!”

“No, Tony.” He pointed to one of the misshapen ones. “These are incomplete cells. Somehow, Peter’s body isn’t developing them properly anymore. He’s …”

“He’s what?” Tony had to fight the urge to grab his collar and shake him. “Tell me!”

“The mutated cells are resurging and fighting back, and that’s defeating the incomplete cells, but his body is just making more. His body isn’t functioning properly anymore. The asthma … It’s not asthma, Tony. It’s his lungs struggling to cope without the perfect cell replacement they need. I can’t be sure without more to work with than blood, but I think that’s happening across his body. All his organs need cell growth. Cells die and are replaced all the time. But it takes time. Usually, a person’s cells are replaced over ten years, and the body handles it, but Peter’s are dying too fast, and they’re not the right cells replacing them.”

Tony pressed his hands to his face and just breathed. It made sense. It was basic science, even he knew that, but he didn’t understand what it really meant for Peter. If he had incomplete cells, and it was happening fast, what happened when all the good cells were gone?

He was afraid to ask. 

“The mutated cells are trying to fix the mistake, but they’re making the problem worse. They’re destroying the cells he has.”

He swallowed hard, lowering his shaky hands. “What does it mean for my kid?”

Bruce looked pained, and his voice was a little stilted as if he was forcing the words out. “It means he’s dying. I don’t know how long it will take, I can’t predict without further testing, but if what I see in the blood continues, he will die soon.”

Tony’s hands found Bruce’s collar, his fingers twisting the material of his shirt. A surge of anger shot through him, and he embraced it. Anger, he knew. It was a familiar old friend. “No! You’re wrong.”

“I’m sorry, Tony, really, but it’s happening. Peter is dying.”

His thoughts seized, and before he could think, he was lashing out. His fist slammed into Bruce’s jaw, and Bruce stumbled back, cradling his face. They stared at each other, and Tony felt a hint of regret. It wasn’t Bruce’s fault. His anger began to wilt, and then Bruce took a breath, stepping closer again, putting his hands on Tony’s shoulders. “I’m sorry, Tony. I really am.”

Tony didn’t want apologies. He wanted Peter to be okay. The sadness in Bruce’s voice, though, drained the rest of his anger, replacing it with pain. He was losing his kid. 

His knees buckled, and he dropped to the floor. His lungs were moving, but the air didn’t feel like it was reaching him. He caught himself with his hands, lowering himself to the floor, so his forehead rested on the cold tile. Everything began to spiral. His breaths came too fast, and his head swam. The only thing he could think about was Peter dying. He was too young. It wasn’t fair. 

He could hear Bruce beside him, and a hand touched his back, but he couldn’t make out the words. The hand on his back felt like a red-hot iron. If he could find his words, he’d ask Bruce to move it, but his tongue felt too big in his mouth. His whole body was shaking like he was in the throes of a seizure. Tears burned at his eyes. 

Time had no meaning. He just existed in his mind. Bruce’s words replaying again and again. Everything felt too fast, his heart, his breaths, his tears, but his mind was slow. It was locked on Peter. He could see his face, his smile, the way he’d looked the day Friday called Tony into the gym to see him walking alone. 

He felt like he was being burned alive. No anxiety attack before had felt like this because this was worse. This wasn’t an attack. This was dying. His body, his world, was breaking apart, and he felt every tear. 

The burning hand moved from his back, replaced by a smaller, gentler one, and he heard a new voice. 

“Tony, breathe. You’re okay. It’s an anxiety attack. You’re perfectly safe.”

“Pepper?” He choked on the name. 

“I’m here. I’ve got you.”

He felt strong arms, lifting him like a doll, and then he was sitting back on his haunches, Pepper kneeling in front of him. She was holding his face and thumbing away his tears, soothing him like a child. 

“Dying…” he sobbed. 

“No, you’re not. It’s an anxiety attack. You’re safe. You’ll be okay. You just need to breathe.”

Tony shook his head. She didn’t understand. He was dying, but that wasn’t what he meant. He was trying to tell her, to make her understand what was happening, what was killing him, but he couldn’t say the words. 

She looked up to Bruce. “He can’t go on like this. You’ve got to have something. I know you’ve tried drugs.”

Bruce murmured a reply. 

“Then use it!”

Footsteps moved away, and Tony tried to speak again, to get the words out, so she’d understand, but he could only make strangled gasping sounds. 

“Do it!” 

He felt a sharp prick in his arm, and then lethargy was sweeping through him. He knew this wasn’t death. It was just a stay of execution. His body went slack, and he was caught, lowered by the hands that burned. Pepper was leaning over him, his head pillowed in her lap. 

“Why?” he whispered. 

“Because you needed it.”

He wasn’t asking why he’d been drugged. He already knew the answer. What he wanted to know was why his son was dying. 

* * *

When Tony woke, he was on the couch in the gym, covered in a blanket, his head on Pepper’s legs. He didn’t immediately remember what had happened, how he came to be there. His head felt foggy and slow. 

“Tony?” Pepper said, stroking his hair. “How do you feel?”

Tony licked his lips. “Thirsty.” His throat was parched. 

She picked up a bottle of water, holding it out to him. With a shaky hand, he took it, unscrewing the cap and gulping it down, feeling it hit his stomach and making it churn. 

He blinked up at Pepper. Her eyes were red, and her mascara was streaked. She’d been crying. He wondered what happened. 

And then, just like that, he remembered. It all came flooding back. His hand went slack, and Pepper plucked the bottle out of his hand, setting it on the floor. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “Where’s Peter?” 

“He’s doing some schoolwork May set up for him. He’s okay.”

“He doesn’t know?”

She frowned a little. “I thought it should be you and May that told him.”

Tony was a coward. He didn’t want to be the one to tell Peter, but he was the only one that could. Peter deserved to hear it from him. He had to tell May first, though. The news should come from both of them. He swore no more secrets, but he worried he wouldn’t be able to find the words to her. 

“What did Bruce dose me with?”

“A combination he tried for himself to help with his … problem. He was worried about being in the tower so much with Peter here, so he kept it as a backup.”

“Drugs don’t work for him.”

“No, but I think he needed them here anyway. He had to feel like he had some failsafe in place.”

Tony nodded. “I need to see Peter.”

“You’ve got time. We got you in here without him seeing. I told him you had a migraine. He won’t expect you for hours.” He knew she was offering him a gift, the gift of time. “You could have a day.”

Tony nodded, but no matter how much he wanted that day, a stay of execution, he needed to face the situation. He didn’t feel as out of control as he did before, so that was good, but now he was more numb as he began to process the facts. What was he going to do? How was he going to fix this? 

Pepper leaned against his side. “I’m sorry, Tony.” 

“Yeah, me too.”

“I don’t understand how this can be happening. Bruce explained it. It’s just—”

“It’s not fair.”

He heard her sniffle, and though she was looking away, he knew she was crying. Maybe it good he couldn’t see her because it might break him even more. 

“It’s not.”

Something in his voice seemed to tip her off, and she straightened up, examining him. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking I’m going to fix it.”

“Bruce is already looking into it.”

“Good.” He nodded. “I need to see May.”

She looked pained. “I know. Do you want me to be with you?”

He did, he really did, but he knew this is something he had to do alone. “No, it should just be us. I’ll go by her place. She did the night shift, so should be… What time is it?”

“Past three.”

“Wow.”

Whatever Bruce had given him had knocked him out for hours. He was impressed his body handled it. If it was created to beat back the Hulk, it should have done him in. Perhaps Bruce had been careful with the dose, or maybe Tony had been lucky—or unlucky.

No, he couldn’t think that way. He didn’t get to check out of the situation, to die, because he had a kid that needed him right now. 

Climbing to his feet, he looked over his rumpled appearances. He wouldn’t usually go out like this, but if he went up to the penthouse to change, he might bump into Peter, and he wasn’t ready for that yet. He needed May by his side, a second line of defense for the fallout of what was to come. 

“I can go see Peter,” Pepper offered. 

He studied her face, seeing her damp, tear-stained cheeks, and realized she needed to process things just as much. “Maybe you should get some rest. You look tired.”

Perhaps she understood what he was seeing in her, or maybe she was just as scared of seeing Peter as he was, whichever it was, a flash of relief crossed her face, and she nodded. “I’ve got some work to do.”

She got to her feet, pulling him into a hug, the warm, soft scent of her perfume grounding him. He melted into it, drawing strength. He would need it. Soon he would be breaking May’s world apart, and then Peter’s. He couldn’t let himself feel the true weight of that, or he’d break again. 

He’d thought before that he needed to be strong, and he’d tried and sometimes succeeded, but this was a different kind of nightmare to face. 

He was not going to lose his son, he would find a way to save him, but he couldn’t hide what was happening from him as the kid had a right to know. 

And Tony needed to be there to save him from that fall.

* * *

Tony’s footsteps felt like they weighted as he walked out of the elevator and into the penthouse, May a step ahead of him. 

Peter was at the table with his schoolbooks spread out in from of him. He was chewing his pen but looked up with a smile when he saw them approach. Tony was struck by how young he looked, his hair tousled, and the chewed pen clamped between his teeth. He was young. He was still doing schoolwork because he was a kid. That thought hit Tony hard. Peter was too young for any of this, and if Tony and Bruce couldn’t make it right, he would never get a chance to grow up. 

Tony stiffened at that realization hit. If they couldn’t fix this, he’d never get to see him got to college or someday have kids of his own. A chill spread down his spine, and he fought a shiver. 

Peter looked at him with concern. “Whoa, Tony, you look awful.”

Peter carefully got to his feet and walked over, his face filled with worry. Before he could reach Tony, though, May stepped forward and pulled Peter into her arms.

Tony understood how she felt, and he wanted to hold Peter, too. He wanted to cling to him and never let him go. He held himself back, though, because Peter didn’t need to be smothered, not yet.

He could see Peter’s face over May’s shoulder. There was a line of worry on his brow and touch of confusion in his eyes. May was a tactile person, but this was different, and it looked like Peter could sense it.

When Tony had told her what was happened, she’d broken. He knew what it must have been like for Bruce and Pepper when he was breaking down because he had watched it happen to May. He’d tried to be strong for her, to help, but it had been almost impossible. He had cried as he held her, and she had clung to him like a lifeline as she sobbed. He’d tried his best to hold himself together and not burden her with his pain, too. 

“What’s going on?” Peter asked. “Are you still sick? Pepper said you have a migraine.”

Tony shook his head. “I’m fine. Come sit down.”

Peter nodded, releasing May, but she still clung to him. Tony placed a hand on her arm and said her name softly. She nodded, holding Peter tighter for a moment, before letting him go and forcing a smile. 

Peter was frowning, he tried to smile back at her, walking ahead of them to the couches. He took a seat by the arm, and May settled beside him, close enough their shoulders were brushing. 

Tony sat in one of the armchairs, facing Peter. He was guiltily relieved to have a little space, to not be the one Peter would collapse on when it fell apart. 

“What’s going on?” Peter asked again, his eyes moving from Tony to May. “Something’s wrong.” His face slackened as his eyes darted back to Tony. “Are you sick? Was it not a migraine?”

Tony shook his head slowly. “No, I’m fine, really.”

“Then what’s wrong?” He looked genuinely worried. 

Tony opened his mouth to speak, faltered, and snapped it closed again. 

May gave him a small nod, picking up Peter’s hand. She held it in his lap and said, “You know, Doctor Banner took some blood from you because Tony wanted to know the level of the changes?”

Peter visibly relaxed. “So it’s all gone now? I’m back to human?”

Tony swallowed hard. He wished it was that easy.

May flinched and said, “No. Honey, Doctor Banner saw some things in your blood that are… Do you know what was happening before?”

“Yeah, I had these crazy cells attacking the Spider-Man ones.”

“There are other changes now, honey. Some cells are not growing properly. It’s not asthma that was making it hard for you to breathe. It’s the side effects of the different cells. Your body is …” She bit her lip. “It’s struggling.”

Peter stared at her for a moment, seeming to be searching for something, and then he looked at Tony, who had to force himself to meet his eye and not look away.

“How bad is it?” he asked. 

May bowed her head. “It’s bad, sweetie.”

Peter nodded slowly. “Is it going to kill me?”

May’s answer came with a muffled sob. “Yes.”

Peter flopped back against the cushions with a rough exhale as if all the air had been kicked out of him. His eyes were distant, stunned. Tony just stared at him, wishing he could talk but unable to form words. Peter needed comfort, and Tony knew he had to be strong, but he just couldn’t. It was taking everything he had not to break again. 

“Okay,” Peter says dully, wiping a hand over his face. “How long?”

“We don’t know,” May said. “Doctor Banner would need to do more tests to have an idea.”

A steely look came into Peter’s eyes. “I don’t want more tests.”

“I know they might not be comfortable, but the more we know…” May trailed off, looking broken. 

Peter leaned forward, holding up a hand. “No. It’s not going to help me to be counting down the days. I don’t want more tests, and I don’t want to know.” He shook his head. “No.”

May nodded. “Okay. No more tests.”

Tony finally found his voice, and it was harsh when he spoke, “Pete, we need to know more.”

“Why?” Peter asked. “It’s not going to help any of us to be staring at a clock.”

“No, but—” 

Tony pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. He’d been determined not to do this, to keep it to himself, but he had to say it. May had already warned him off the topic, just like she had in the hospital, but Peter needed hope. It sounded like he’d given up already, and Tony couldn’t let him do that. 

“We need to know more so we can fix it.”

May growled his name, fury on her face, but Peter had his attention. Peter was staring at him as if puzzling something out, and then he nodded. “After my accident, did you try to fix it? Did you have Doctor Banner working on a cure for me?”

Tony nodded stiffly. “Yes.”

Peter smiled slightly. “And did it help?”

Tony’s mouth dropped open. “What?” Peter couldn’t think they’d found a cure and not tried it. 

Peter shook his head, still smiling. “Did it help _you_?”

Tony was struck by how old he sounded. He’d always been mature for his age, he’d needed to be, especially lately, but it was like talking to someone like Rhodey, someone with a lifetime of experiences, knowledge, and wisdom.

“Yes.”

Peter nodded and smiled. “Okay. I’ll do what you need me to do, you can have your tests, but _I_ don’t want to know how long I’ve got.”

“Peter, there is going to be no ‘how long.’ I _will_ fix it!”

“Stop!” May was shouting now. “Stop it!”

Peter patted her arm. “It’s okay. He needs it.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m going to lie down for a while.”

“Peter—” Tony didn’t want him to go, to be alone with this. He wanted to cling to him. 

Peter shook his head, releasing May’s hand and getting to his feet, walking away. Tony heard his bedroom door open and close, and he put his head in his hand. 

“I can’t believe you did that!” May said, her voice shaking. “I _told_ you not to give him false hope.”

Tony looked up, and there was something in his face that made her pull back a little. “It’s not false hope,” he said. “I _am_ fixing this. I am not letting our kid die.”

May drew a shaky breath. “You might not be able to control it.”

Tony leapt to his feet, hands fisted and shaking, and forced himself not to explode with his anger. He marched out of the room and down to the lab where Bruce was waiting. 

Bruce had his arms crossed over his chest, and there was an expectant look on his face. It was as if he knew what Tony was going to say, and when Tony faltered, he proved he did. 

“We need MRI and CT scans, more bloodwork, and a spinal tap.”

Tony nodded, thinking of what Peter said. “We’ll get it.”


	25. Chapter 25

Peter was on the couch, one of his school notebooks on his lap and a pen clamped between his teeth. So far, he had two words written at the top of the page, but now he was stalled. 

He heard someone coming and looked up hopefully, wanting Tony, but it was Pepper. When she got closer, he saw her face and immediately felt guilty. She had to know what was happening. She looked awful, too, not her usual composed, cheeriness. He hadn’t seen Tony all day. It was evening now, and he’d eaten a dinner of cereal alone. 

He felt very alone. 

Peter could understand how the people around him felt. If the situations were reversed and Tony or May was dying, he’d be afraid, too, but right now, sitting in the position he did, he was calm. There was no fear, though maybe that would come later. 

It was like he’d been given the news that he’d suspected, though in no way had he known. He’d been thinking of how good his life was now when May and Tony had come in looking like they had to break the news. He didn’t want to die, but he wasn’t scared of it either. 

If he’d not been Spider-Man, he would have died when he fell from that building. He’d been lucky that there were enough mutated cells in him to keep him alive, though they couldn’t save his spine, but that’s where it should have ended. The fact he had extra months had been a bonus, amazing. The was over now, though, and it wasn’t as scary as maybe it should be. 

Maybe he was in shock, and the calm would wear off, and he’d be afraid later. He wasn’t going to wait for it come, though. He was going to enjoy the time he had left while he could. 

“Hey, Peter. You hungry? I’m sorry, I’m so late. I got caught up at work and—” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry.” 

Peter waved away her apology. “No, I ate already.” 

She looked a little pained but smiled at him as she came closer and sat down. “You doing school work?” 

Peter shook his head. “No. That’s definitely—” He stopped himself. “I mean, it’s not a priority right now.” 

“Then, what are you doing?” 

Peter hesitated. “I’m making a list of things I want to do.” 

She pressed her lips together for a second but then smiled. “What kind of things?” 

Peter examined her and said, “I heard it’s something people do when they’re … like me. So I figured I’d do one, too. All the things I want to do before it’s over.” 

Pepper sucked in a soft breath, and Peter felt guilty again. He didn’t want this for the people he cared about, and he didn’t want it for himself. They needed time to come to terms with it, of course, but there might not be much time, and he didn’t want to walk on eggshells the whole time to protect them. If this was what his situation was now, he was dying soon, then he was going to make the most of what he had left. 

“So I was thinking all the usual things,” he said. “Like skydiving and a hot air balloon ride.” 

She glanced at his almost empty page, and he saw something change in her face. She was smiling genuinely now. “Then you better start writing them down.” 

Peter grinned and made the first two notes. 

“What else?” she asked. 

“One I saw online was to face a fear, and I do have a fear, but it’s kind of silly.” 

She nudged him with her elbow. “I need to hear this. What scares Spider-Man?” 

Peter ducked his head and muttered. “Spiders.” 

Pepper laughed and then clapped a hand to her mouth, looking guilty. 

He laughed, too. “Yeah, I know it’s dumb, but I never liked them much, and then one bit me, which was pretty rough. I think I need to touch a spider or something to beat the fear.” 

“Peter, I think you need to do more than just touch a spider to count as facing a fear. You’re going to at least need to hold one, and it can’t be some baby. If you’re doing this, you’re going to have to do a Stark.” 

His brows pinched together. “Do a Stark?” 

She nodded. “You’ve got to go big. I’m thinking tarantula…” 

Peter shuddered and then nodded. “Okay. I can do that.” He wrote it down on the list. “Face a fear. Easy. You got other ideas?” 

Pepper considered. “Well… What have you always wanted to do? That’s what this is about.” 

Peter tapped his pen against his teeth, and she pulled it away. “Tony does that, too, and it drives me nuts.” 

“Sorry.” Peter set the pen down on the paper again and said, “Is Coney Island a dumb one?” 

“Why would it be dumb?” 

“It’s not a kid thing?” He looked awkward. “I was supposed to go with my mom, but then… well, we didn’t get to go, and I never wanted to ask May or Ben since they were working so hard. I’ve never been, apart from the thing with Toomes and the plane, and I thought it would be cool to do it properly.” 

“Then it’s a perfect idea. Write it down.” 

Peter did. “You think Tony will come?” It was an offhand remark, more of a joke than not because he couldn’t imagine Tony at Coney Island eating a funnel cake, but the look on her face made him stop and frown. 

She looked so sad. “Honestly, Peter, I don’t know what Tony can do right now.” She put a hand on his back. “Tony is at his best when he can do something. You know how bad he is at relaxing when there’s a job to be done. Right now, with you…” 

“Fixing me is his job,” Peter said. 

“To him, it is, yes.” 

Peter sighed. “But he can’t.” 

“We don’t know that.” 

“Okay, no, we don’t know it, but Tony’s not that kind of doctor. Even if he was, I don’t see how anyone can do it. It all sounds too big. It’s not regular science. It’s my freaky cells.” 

She hugged him against her. “I know, but I don’t think Tony can bear to not try.” She pulled back, eyes moving over him. “Do you really feel that way, or are you being… I don’t know… Are you trying to make it easier for everyone else?” 

“I don’t think so. Really, Pepper, I feel like this is it, and that’s okay. Sure, I’d rather live, but I don’t want Tony spending all his time working on it and getting upset when it doesn’t work.” 

She stared at him for a moment and then hugged him again. He felt her breath catch, and he closed his eyes. He was hurting her, and he hated it. He wished it was different. If he could, he’d just enjoy these days, weeks, whatever he had, with the people he loved. All of them. He didn’t want to lose Tony to the lab on a mission that would probably never work when he could be with him instead. 

He felt Pepper’s breath settle, and she straightened up with wet eyes but a big smile. “Have you thought about getting a tattoo?” 

“Uh … I’m sixteen. You think I can get one that won’t give me hepatitis?” 

She considered. “I think you can get most things you want in life if you find the right way to ask and the right person.” She winked. “Let me work on it.” 

Peter laughed. “Sure. Okay. But if May freaks out, I’m blaming you.” 

She smiled. “I think we’ll get away with it.” 

Peter guessed she was right. May wasn’t going to care about a tattoo compared to what else was happening. He was going to be dead soon anyway. May would pick her battles, just like Peter had to. 

He couldn’t live longer by living safer, so he’d live better while he had the chance, cram as much into however long he had left. 

He’d make the most of what he’d been given the way Uncle Ben always taught him to do. 

xXx 

“You know what would make this even cooler?” 

Peter thought of Tony being there, but he smiled and said, “No, what?” 

Ned lowered his voice. “If you were in your suit. Imagine the picture that would make. Spider-Man holding a spider.” 

“I’m not holding one yet.” 

Ned nudged his shoulder. “You will.” 

The line of kids and parents moved along a step, and Peter licked his lips. He was starting to get nervous, which was ridiculous. He’d faced bigger and scarier things. 

Pepper had done the research and found that the Bronx Zoo had a tarantula that you could hold in their encounter zone. It was a weird thing to want to pet, and he hadn’t seen anyone else doing it yet. The kids so far in line had chosen to pet snakes and feed bugs to the lizards. 

Peter was glad he hadn’t seen the spider yet because he was worried he’d wimp out. This had seemed like a good idea back at the tower, but now he was having second thoughts. He started to wish he’d found a different fear to face. The problem was, though, he didn’t really have any other fears. Spiders were the one big thing that he still afraid of. 

Ned was practically bouncing in his spot as he waited with Peter. He was having a great time, but Peter doubted he would be this excited if he was facing his fear of Ferris wheels. 

“You know, this is pretty cool, even without the suit.” 

Peter smiled. “It is.” 

He was happy spending time with Ned, May, and Pepper, but he missed Tony. May and Pepper both had their cameras ready for when Peter’s turn came up. May had seemed pleased when he’d told her about the list, though he’d been careful not to call it a bucket list. And Pepper was amazing. He hadn’t had a chance to spend much time with her before, not until moving into the tower. She’d told him she’d cleared her schedule as much as she could, despite Peter telling her not to worry about it, but she’d said she needed to do it for herself just as much as for him. 

The line moved along, and then Peter was at the front. The zookeeper in a green uniform said, “What would you like, kid?” 

Peter looked at the tarantula in its tank, his furry legs crawling over a small rock, and swallowed hard. “I’d like to hold a tarantula.” 

The man nodded, “Sure thing.” 

He lifted the tank and brought it to the counter and reached inside. Peter’s heart skipped, and his breath caught, but he focused on staying calm and not making a fool of himself. 

“Hands out, slightly cupped.” 

Peter held out his hands, fingers creating a shallow bowl, and the huge spider was placed into them. He held his breath as he felt the pointed legs poking his skin. 

“Her name is Bessie,” the zookeeper said. 

Peter nodded as if understanding perfectly why such a scary, dangerous creature had the name of a cow, and said, “Uh-huh … cool.” 

“Peter, over here,” May called, camera at the ready. 

Peter turned to the side and forced a smile that felt more like a grimace and said, “Cheese.” 

May snapped a few pictures, and Peter turned back to the spider, wanting to be ready to drop it if it looked like biting him. 

“So cool,” Ned breathed. 

Pepper came up behind him, leaning around him to see. “How’s it going?” 

“It’s okay,” Peter said, then decided to prove his point by lifting the spider a little closer and addressing it. “So, webs, they’re cool, right? And pretty useful.” 

Ned snorted, and Pepper placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’re doing great.” 

Peter considered how long he needed to hold it to count as facing a fear and figured it was probably time to move along so that the kids behind him in line got a chance with their picks, too. 

He looked at the beady black eyes, noting how many there were. “I’m glad I didn’t end up with spider eyes, too.” 

Pepper chuckled. “Yeah, that’d be inconvenient.” 

Peter took a breath, stared at the spider for a moment, and then held it out to the zookeeper. “Okay, I’m done.” 

The man took the spider back, setting in the tank. “Facing a fear?” 

“Definitely,” Peter said. 

“You did good. I’ve seen grown men crying when faced with Bessie.” 

“She’s really … great.” 

“She’s a sweetheart.” 

Peter smiled, wondering at a man that could call a tarantula a sweetheart, and then moved away to where May was standing. She put an arm around his shoulders and said, “You did good.” 

“I was freaking out,” Peter said honestly. 

May squeezed him a little tighter. “But you did it anyway.” 

Peter grinned. “I did, and that’s the only scary thing I’ve got to do.” 

May raised an eyebrow. “Pepper says there’s something about a skydive on your list.” 

Peter nodded. “Yeah, but that’s nothing compared to Bessie.” 

She laughed. “I’d have to disagree, but if it’s what you want to do, we’ll make it happen.” 

Peter smiled. “I know.” 

That was what they’d all committed to doing, Pepper and May, even Ned, though he didn’t know why—he just thought this is some post-accident adrenaline thing—but there was one person Peter wished could be a part of it. 

He would really like it if Tony could be with them, too. 

xXx 

“You sure you want to do this?” May asked, sun catching her hair. The cemetery was quiet, sort of peaceful. 

Peter nodded. It was something that he should have done a long time ago. He had never been to his uncle’s grave, not since the funeral. Maybe that made him coward, but he needed to make the trip before he couldn’t anymore. 

They walked along the path. Peter tried to remember the way, but couldn’t, and that fact bothered him. He should have come before. 

May took the lead, stepping over the grass until they reached a grave with a grey marble stone. Peter took a moment, taking a steadying breath before looking down. It had Ben’s name on it, the dates of his birth and death, and the words ‘Devoted husband and uncle.’ Peter swallowed hard. 

May bent, picking up the dead flowers laying against the headstone and replaced then with the fresh ones that she’d brought. She touched the engraved name and said, “Hello, Ben. Look who’s here.” 

Peter closed his eyes and willed back the burn of tears. 

“Hey, Uncle Ben.” 

May touched his arm, feather-light at first, and then squeezed. Peter felt like he should say something, but he was too self-conscious with May watching. He’d like to ask to be alone, but that didn’t seem fair. She needed to be there, too. 

Perhaps she knew what he needed, though, just like always, because she turned and said to him, “I’ll be right back,” then walked away to the trash can, dumping the flowers inside. Instead of returning, she walked further away and sat down on a bench, averting her eyes. 

Feeling more secure, he moved closer to the grave, placing a hand on the top. “Hey,” he said awkwardly. “I … uh … I’m sorry I haven’t come before.” He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “This is dumb.” He glanced back at May, who was looking pointedly in the other direction. “Okay, dumb or not, it’s on my list, so I’m doing it.” 

He straightened his shoulders, breathing for a moment before saying, “I don’t know if you can hear me, you probably can’t since there’s no scientific proof of life after death or anything, but … uh…” He glanced at his shoes and then rubbed his palms against his jeans. “I want there to be, though. I mean, I’m going to be dead soon, too, right, and I don’t want to just stop after. So, yeah, there’s life after death. Sure.” 

His nerves started to settle, and he took a breath, pushing on. “I’m doing this list, all the things I want to do before I die, and one of them is forgiveness. I have to forgive someone. I figured that’d be easy, I’d just forgive Flash for being a jerk, and that’d be it, but that’s cheating. And since the list is for me, I’m cheating myself. 

“I’ve got to forgive someone that matters, and that’s the man that killed you. I don’t want to do it, Ben. Honestly, I’ve been holding onto that anger for so long that it’s part of me now, but I think I have to let it go.” 

He closed his eyes, summoning the face of the man that killed Ben and breathing deep, then addressing him as if he was there. “I hated you for what you did, I am always going to hate what happened, but I can forgive you for doing it. I’ve done things wrong, too. I’ve messed up. I don’t know your story, but I think you must have been desperate when you did it. I’ve been desperate, too. I’ve let people down when I couldn’t be strong enough.” He faltered and looked back at Ben’s name on the stone. “I let you down, Uncle Ben. I could have stopped him, and I didn’t. You died because of that.” 

An idea occurred to him, and he held his breath. He thought forgiving the man who had stolen his uncle’s life would be the hardest thing on his list, but it wasn’t. The hardest was something else, but it was something that he needed to do. 

He forced the words out. “And I forgive myself. I was wrong, I let you down, but I can let that go now. I don’t want to be there at the end, dying, and still blaming myself. I think that’ll make it harder, and it’s already going to be tough to say goodbye to everyone else.” He straightened his shoulders. “I forgive myself.” 

He felt the heavy weight that had rested on his shoulders lift. It had been there so long, he had stopped feeling it. Now, though, he felt lighter, like he might float away, and when he breathed in, he was surprised by how easy it was. It had been so long since he could breathe freely. 

“I forgive myself,” he said again. “I do. I was wrong, I let you down, but I forgive myself for it.” 

Tears stung his eyes, and he swiped a hand over them, wiping them away. They weren’t tears of just sadness or happiness. Maybe they were a strange combination of the two. 

He turned and waved May over. She quickly got to her feet and rushed over. She seemed confused at first, perhaps the combination of tears and a smile on Peter’s face, but she took a breath, reaching up, wiping his tears away. “You finally did it, didn’t you?” 

“Did what?” 

“You let it go. I can see it. I’ve watched you every day since Ben died, and I saw that weight on you, but it’s gone. You forgave yourself.” 

Peter nodded. “I did.” 

Her arms snaked around him, pulling him close. “I’m glad, honey, because it was never your fault. 

Peter could argue that, but he didn’t. It was his fault, but that didn’t matter anymore. When the end came, however long from now it was, he’d be moving on as a free man, as a man that wasn’t carrying the guilt anymore. 

He thought that would make it a little easier maybe, and he had spoken to Ben, committed to the fact that there was something more when his life ended, and maybe that meant he’d get to see Ben again soon. He could tell him the stories of everything he missed, all the things that had happened to Peter, and what he’d done. He could tell him about Tony and everything the man had done for him, how he had given him the most amazing gifts, gifts that had nothing to do with material things. 

Tony made him feel alive again, and that was what he wanted to hang onto now. Feeling alive while he could. 

xXx 

They’d hit a snag that Peter hadn’t thought of. 

“I’m sorry, Peter,” May said. “I should have checked.” 

“It’s fine.” He was disappointed, though. They’d arrived at the center where the hot air balloon rides began, and he had to climb into the basket. He could walk really well now with his braces, though he was tiring much faster, but there was no way he could climb into the basket. 

“No, it’s not.” May was obviously upset. She was the one that had arranged this experience, and he could tell she was upset that they weren’t going to be able to do it. 

The man that ran the ride was older and wouldn’t be able to help Peter in. 

Pepper looked at him for a moment and then said, “Peter, would you mind if we lifted you in?” 

“No, but—” He didn’t want to say it, but he didn’t think Pepper and May would be able to do it. He wasn’t that big, but he was heavy enough, and the side of the basket was high. May and Pepper just weren’t strong enough. 

Pepper shook her head. “I’ll be right back.” 

She marched back to the parking lot, where Happy was waiting for their return. She opened the passenger door and leaned in. Peter watched as Happy climbed out of his side and then followed her back to the basket. 

Peter was feeling a little awkward about this. Happy was great, he really liked him, but he didn’t feel that comfortable asking him to manhandle him into the basket. He didn’t have the same kind of relationship with him that he did Pepper, who he had grown even closer in the last three weeks. 

Happy rubbed his hands together, though, looking perfectly at ease. “What do you need, kid?” 

Peter gestured at the basket. “I need to get in, and I can’t climb.” 

Happy examined the basket, then held out his hands and said, “You ready?” 

Peter nodded and then waited as May held up a hand. “Let Pepper and me get in first.” 

With an ease that made Peter jealous, they climbed into the basket, and Pepper said, “Go ahead, Happy.” 

Happy bent and hefted Peter into his arms, taking a step forward and tipped—there was no other word for it—Peter into Pepper and May’s waiting arms. It made his sore muscles throb, and his heart race against the strain, but he didn’t allow it to show. 

It was so undignified, and Peter felt so much like a toddler being handed from parent to parent that he laughed. It was ridiculous, but it was done. He was getting to go on his ride, and that was what he’d been excited about all morning. 

“I’ll keep an eye out for when you get back,” Happy said, dusting off his hands and walking back to the car. 

Pepper and May settled Peter on his feet, and he gripped the edge. There was a time, not that long ago, that being carried around like that by Happy would have devastated him, but now he saw the fun in it, and the care. Happy hadn’t minded and didn’t even seem to see it as any different from shaking Peter’s hand, even though they’d never been that close physically before. Peter was reminded, once again, of how lucky he was to have these people in his life and just how much they all meant to him. 

“Okay, going up,” the man said, and there was a rush of heat above them as he pulled a cord and sent the gas flame up, filling the balloon with hot air. 

Peter felt them rising, and he grinned at Pepper and May as they steadied themselves on the sides of the basket. He looked down at the ground, watching it recede beneath them as they rose, and let himself feel the moment. This was an experience. This was life. This was good. 


	26. Chapter 26

“Okay, you got it?” Pepper asked, double-checking the pot. 

Peter nodded. “Yeah. I can do the rest. Thanks for doing this for me.” 

She pulled him into an embrace, lingering there for a moment. “It’s my pleasure. I better go. She’ll be back soon.” 

Pepper released him, drawing back with a warm smile. She grabbed her purse from the table, and Peter waved goodbye. The apartment door closed, and Peter turned to the pot, simmering on the stove. It was bubbling nicely. He opened the drawer beside the stove, taking out the placemats and cutlery, going to set the table. 

He was tired, and it was a little harder than usual to get around in his braces, but he couldn’t cook from the chair, not safely anyway, so he pushed through it. 

He set the places, straightening one of the knives for presentation, and then checked the time. He had ten minutes before May would be home, which was plenty of time to do what he needed, what he had been itching to do. 

He went to his bedroom, surprised by how tidy his room was. There wasn’t any dust or musty smell. He figured May must have been cleaning it and airing it out. The bed was made, which he had left a mess the morning of his last patrol. 

He went to the closet, pulling it open. His suit was hanging up where he left it, but it looked rumpled. He was confused but dismissed it, taking it to the bed and sitting down. For a moment, he just stared at it, his fingers stroking over the emblem on the chest. 

Once, this moment would have been too hard to contemplate, maybe too hard to ever do, but now he felt a certain happiness. He tugged the mask off the hook and stared into the eyes, Spider-Man and all it encompassed felt like another life now. Those memories were some of the best, and he would always remember them, leaving Spider-Man behind didn’t hurt the way he thought it would. 

He pulled on the mask and heard Karen’s voice chirp in his ear. “Hello, Peter.” 

“Hey, Karen. Uh … long time no see.” 

“Yes. Where have you been?” 

Peter bit his lip. He figured she would have known, maybe Friday had passed on the news, but he supposed that was dumb. 

“I kinda had an accident. I screwed up. I went on a patrol when I shouldn’t and fell off a building when my web-shooters glitched. I broke my back and did some damage to other things.” 

“Why weren’t you wearing your suit?” The voice sounded a little hurt, though that should have been impossible. 

Peter huffed a laugh. “Because I’m a dumbass that didn’t want you tattling to Tony about what I was doing.” 

“I see. The baby monitor protocol.” 

“Yeah, that. So I got myself hurt and lost the use of my legs.” 

“I see.” There was a long silence, and then Karen recited his stats. “I see a fractured T12 vertebrae. Substantial damage to lungs and heart. All vital organs showing degeneration. Peter, you’re dying.” 

Peter flinched. “Yeah, that’s a fact. That’s what this is about, I guess. I’m dying, and I kinda wanted to say thank you. You helped me a lot, saved my ass.” 

“I was created to assist you.” 

“You were, and if I’d been smarter, I’d have had you with me when I went on that patrol, but I didn’t and…” He shrugged. “I’d have been dying anyway. It’s all about the screwed-up cells, and even you couldn’t have helped with that.” 

“With your current condition, you can expect—” 

“No! I don’t want to know. It’s happening soon, I can feel that, but I don’t want to be counting down days. I’m having a good time right now.” 

“I’m glad.” 

“I guess this kinda leaves you unemployed. I don’t see any other Spider-Kids coming along, but maybe Tony can find you a new job. You might be able to help someone else.” 

“It was a pleasure to help you, Peter.” 

Peter’s lips curved into a wide smile. “Thanks, Karen, that means—Oh.” 

He cut off as he heard the door open and May’s voice calling, clearly confused. “Peter? Are you here?” 

“Bye, Karen,” he said quickly, tugging off the mask and dropping it onto the bed. He got to his feet carefully and went into the kitchen, where May was shrugging off her jacket. 

“Hey! What are you doing here?” Her eyes found the pots bubbling on the stove. “Did you cook?” 

“I did. Sit down.” 

With a wide smile, May took a seat at the table, resting her chin on her hand. “It’s great to see you back here.” 

Peter faltered. He hadn’t thought about coming home again. He knew he could, but that would mean not seeing Tony—not that he’d seen him for days. Since they’d gotten back from the hospital after all the tests Bruce requested, Tony had been missing. Peter figured he was in the lab, doing what he needed to do, but he wished Tony would make a little time for him, too. 

“No,” May said quickly. “You and I both know the tower is the right place for you to be right now, but it’s just nice to have you here now.” 

Peter relaxed. “You want some wine?” 

“Where did you get wine?” 

He laughed. “Don’t worry, I didn’t hang outside the liquor store and ask some skeevy guy to buy it for me. Pepper got it. She’s pretty much how this whole dinner came together. I’m not a great cook.” 

It was May’s turn to laugh. “That’s probably my fault, but it means a lot to me that you’ve tried today.” 

“How was work?” 

It was a reasonable question, one he would have asked any other day before the accident, but he didn’t think he’d asked since. He had been so focused on everything else that he’d gotten selfish. 

“It was okay,” she said. “I took a shift on geriatrics so had to serve as a model for a lady that was making her granddaughter a sweater that was ‘just my size.’” 

They both laughed. 

“Sounds fun.” 

“It actually was. I enjoyed it.” 

Peter fetched the wine from the fridge, then grabbed a glass, taking both over to her before turning his attention back to the stove. The pasta looked done, but he wasn’t an expert. Pepper had said to throw a piece at the wall and to see if it stuck. Apparently, that meant it was done. With a smile, he scooped out a piece and tossed it at the cabinet where it stuck, causing May to gasp in surprise. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Pepper told me I should. It’s how you know it’s cooked.” 

May smiled, her head shaking a little. “Make sure you pick it off before it sticks solid.” 

Peter nodded, picking the pasta off the cabinet and then tossing it in the trash. He drained the pasta, then put it on the plates, spooning the sauce over it. 

“It smells great,” May said, as Peter set a plate down in front of her. Her smile brightened. “It looks great, too.” 

Pleased, Peter settled into one of the chairs with his own plate. He picked up his fork, twirling some of the pasta. He noticed May watching him, and he said, “Are you waiting for me to check if it’s poisonous before you try it?” 

“No. I’m sure it’ll be great. I was just looking at you.” She lifted her glass of wine to him in a toast and said, “You’re amazing, Peter, you know that, right?” 

Peter blushed, ducking his head. “You might want to taste it before you pile on the praise.” 

“That’s not what I meant, but you’re right.” The solemn mood passed, and she forked up her food, taking a tentative bite and then beaming. “It’s great!” 

Peter couldn’t contain his smile as he tried his own. It was actually pretty good, which he could thank Pepper for, but he was still proud of himself. He’d wanted to do this for May, it was on his list, and it obviously made her happy. 

Covering a small cough behind his hand and hiding the grimace that followed with a sip of water, he pushed away the ache he could feel in his chest and reminded himself that it was okay. He knew he was going to start feeling sicker, and what he’d stopped Karen from saying was a fact. Even if he didn’t know the number of days, he would die soon, but that was more reason to keep going. 

He still had things he wanted to do. 

* * *

Tony didn’t hear her coming. He was too focused on the hologram of what Bruce was doing, holding his breath and willing it to work, but when Pepper grabbed his arm and turned him, he realized she there at last. 

She was wearing jeans with sneakers and a tank top. Her hair was pinned back, and a pair of sunglasses perched on his head. 

He turned away again, focusing on Bruce and the project at hand, cursing when Bruce pulled back from the microscope with a curse. “I can’t get it!” 

“Try again,” Tony ordered. 

They were trying to separate the mutated Spider-Man cells from Peter’s blood, so they could see if there was a way to kill them off, maybe give his body a chance to recover and create healthy cells again. They were working with the theory that the cells his body was replacing the ones the mutated cells killed weren’t getting enough time to mature. If they could separate the cells and find a way to kill off the mutated ones, they could feed the healthy ones into Peter’s veins. They were hoping some form of chemotherapy would work. 

Pepper grabbed his arm, but he shrugged her off, going to the counter where the coffee maker was and pouring himself a cup. He took a swig, grimacing. It was cold and bitter. He set it down and pulled a bottle from his pocket, shaking a few pills into his hand. He was just about to toss them back when Pepper swatted them from his hand, making them scatter on the floor. 

“What the hell, Pep?” 

“No!” She dug a finger into his chest. “You don’t get to do that. I’m not going to watch you shoving drugs down your throat, killing yourself.” 

Tony sighed and held up the bottle of pills. “They’re caffeine pills. I’m not taking drugs.” 

Though he had considered it. He wanted something that would give him more energy, so he’d have to spend less time catching sleep on the couch in the gym. He hadn’t been to the penthouse with the others in weeks. He cleaned up in the shower attached to the gym, went to the kitchen to get more coffee for the machine in the night, and he spent the rest of his time looking over Bruce’s shoulder, trying to absorb everything Bruce said about genetics and biology. 

Pepper examined the bottle as if she didn’t believe him about what they were, and then she tipped them onto the floor and started stomping on them, crushing them to fragments and powder. 

She kicked them away, creating a smear of white powder, and glared at him. 

“I can buy more,” he antagonized her. 

“I know you will, you stubborn idiot, because your priorities are shot to hell. You’re the stupidest genius I have ever known. This crap you’re pulling now, this is the kind of thing I expected from you before Afghanistan.” 

Tony jerked. Afghanistan, what happened to him there was out of bounds, and she knew it. They didn’t talk about what he was like before, only occasionally did it get referenced when Pepper was pointing out how far he’d come. 

“No,” he growled. “I was a selfish asshole then. What I am doing right now is the most important thing I’ve ever done. This is about me saving a life.” 

“Peter’s life, right? Your son’s.” 

“Exactly, my damn son’s!” 

“Except you’re not. What are you even doing down here? You don’t know how to fix him. You’re hiding.” 

“I will find a way!” His voice was rising, but she matched it. 

“No, Bruce will.” Seeing his surprise, she narrowed her eyes and rushed on. “Yes, I’ve not given up on him, I still hope there is a way to save Peter’s life, but I know I can’t help with that. I don’t know anywhere near enough for something like that. Neither do you. So I am doing what I can for Peter. I am spending time with him, working through his list of things he wants to do with his life!” 

“Yeah, his list.” Tony scoffed. “What was it today? What was worth more to that kid than fighting for his own life?” 

“A picnic in Central Park.” 

Tony rolled his eyes. “Do you know how stupid that sounds? He should be here with us, helping. If we had him to work with, his body, we could do more.” 

Bruce raised a hand. “Uh … Actually …” 

“Shut it, Banner!” he snapped. 

Bruce bowed his head, going back to the microscope. 

“You won’t even hear it,” Pepper sneered. “You’re such an arrogant asshole that you won’t even listen to the expert so you can keep doing this.” She stopped and stared at him. “No, this isn’t arrogance. This is fear. You’re hiding from it. It’s easier for you to be in here than it is for you to be with Peter and see what he’s going through.” 

“Yeah, I’m sure a picnic in the park is real—” 

He was cut off as she slapped him hard across the cheek. Bruce excused himself quietly, and his footsteps trailed away as Tony stared at Pepper in shock. 

She didn’t look any less shocked than he felt at what she’d done, but her hand was still raised to slap him again. 

“You know what, I was wrong. I was always wrong. You know, I’ve been more proud of you than ever before since this happened. I saw your struggle after Peter’s accident, and I saw you run out of that hospital room to go get loaded, but you came back. Day after day you were there, you supported him, even though I know it was killing you some days. I thought, yes, he’s found his son, and I was so happy for you.” 

She shook her head. “But you don’t have the right to call him that anymore. Peter is not your son. If he was, you’d stop hiding down here and be with him. You would understand why he made that list and why he’s doing all those things instead of sitting down here as your guinea pig. He is the one I’m proud of now, and you, Tony Stark, can go to hell.” 

She spun on a heel and marched out. His mind was reeling with the things she’d said, each word feeling like a barb against his skin. She was wrong, though. He wasn’t a coward for doing this. When he and Bruce found the cure, when they saved Peter, his son, she will see that he was doing right all along. They all would. He was doing what he had to do, and he wasn’t going to be made to guilty about it. 

Sure, he wanted to be with Peter, but he wanted more than a scant few weeks. He wanted a lifetime, but if they didn’t find a way to fix this, a few weeks was all he would ever have, and Tony couldn’t lay down and accept that. He had to fight. 

He turned back to the shouter and shouted, “Bruce, get back in here. We’ve got a damn job to do.” 

* * *

The pain kept Peter awake, the aching in his chest and heart that beat too fast, racing closer to death. He hoped the episode would pass like it usually did, but he knew that sooner or later, his luck would run out. Pain and discomfort would become his new normal. 

He heard a sound in the hall, then a muttered curse. He was pretty sure it was Tony. Peter hesitated for a moment. He wanted to see Tony, as it had been over two weeks since he’d spent more than a moment with him, but he wasn’t sure Tony wanted to see him. It seemed like he was avoiding Peter. 

He needed to see him, though, to make him understand. He didn’t want to die with a rift between them, and that was what it felt like, the way Tony avoided whatever floor he was on. The man hadn’t once come to any of Peter’s experiences from his list, and Peter wondered what he thought about them. Did he think it was stupid? 

Dragging the wheelchair closer to the bed, Peter worked himself over, easing into it. It was hard as his muscles felt weak and loose. He managed, though, and then he wheeled himself out and into the kitchen. 

Tony was at the counter, pouring a coffee and knocking back a pill with it. Peter wondered what he was taking. 

“Tony…” 

The man’s back was turned, but Peter could still see the grief in the way he stood. He set the coffee cup down roughly, slopping it on the counter, and the gripped the edge, bowing his head. 

“You okay?” Peter asked. 

Tony’s shoulders rose with a sharp breath. He was radiating tension, and Peter hated it. He considered going back to this bedroom for a moment, but no, he couldn’t run away. 

He wheeled himself forward, stopping beside Tony. He could see his face now. His teeth were gritted and his jaw jumping. The knuckles on his hands were white from gripping the counter so hard, and his arms shook. Peter hadn’t seen him like this before. 

He grappled for something to say. “We’re going to Coney Island today. Do you want to come?” 

Tony lowered his head and squeezed his eyes shut. “No.” 

“Please, Mr. Stark. It’ll be better than what you’re doing now.” 

“I am trying to save your life.” 

“I know, but you…” 

“Can’t?” Tony turned to face him now, and his face was twisted with rage. “You have no idea what I can do.” 

“I know I’m not a genius like you, but this is just … I can’t be helped. It’s over.” 

Tony drew a sharp breath and pressed his fisted hands to his eyes. “It is not over!” 

“But—” 

“No!” Tony yelled so loud Peter wanted to cover his ears. “I am not giving up on you. Just because you’re quitting, it doesn’t mean I will.” 

That stung. Peter wasn’t quitting. He had just accepted the inevitable. He didn’t want to waste his time fighting something that couldn’t be beaten. He wanted to enjoy the time he had. 

“I’ve not quit.” 

“Then what are you doing going on days out with Pepper, May, and Ned. Why aren’t you in the lab with us, helping? We need you there with us, your body, your brain. You are a genius.” Tony was panting now, coming undone at the seams. 

“Please don’t be angry. It’s just a waste.” 

“No, a waste is what you’re doing. And why aren’t you angry? Why aren’t you fighting back? How can you just give up? Why aren’t you angry?” 

Tony was so loud, so angry, that Peter did cover his ears that time, tears springing to his eyes. “I don’t want to be angry. That’s not what I want to feel during this time. I want to be happy.” 

“Happy about dying?” 

“No. Happy about living while I can.” 

Tony slammed his fists down on the counter, rattling it. “Fighting is living!” 

“No,” Peter said quietly. “Fighting now is a waste. Please, don’t hide from me when I need you most.” 

Tony bowed his head, and a tear ran down his cheek. Peter reached for him, taking his hand and squeezing it. It was like touching a rock. He was so rigid. 

“Please.” 

He saw it happen, the moment Tony broke under the weight of his emotions. He collapsed to the floor, crumpled on his knees. Peter reached for him. Tony was panting for breath and shaking, and Peter could understand. He knew what it felt like to break apart, as he’d broken before, too. 

Peter lifted his feet from the footrests and pushed himself out of the chair. It rolled back as he collapsed forward, his legs useless. He dragged himself toward Tony, and once he was close, he tugged Tony down to meet him. Tony fell onto him, knocking him back, so his head hit the cupboard, but Peter didn’t feel the pain. He was too consumed with emotion. 

He cupped Tony’s head, holding it against his shoulder. Tony’s warm breath tickled his skin as he panted. His breathing was too fast and shallow. Peter held him tighter. 

“Breathe,” Peter said. “Nice and slow.” 

Tony’s chest stuttered in uneven movements and aborted breaths. He was fighting for control, and Peter’s heart ached for him. 

“I’m here.” 

He just didn’t know for how much longer he would be, and from the way a sob broke from Tony, he didn’t either. 

“I’m here now,” he amended. “I won’t leave you tonight.” 

“What do I do?” Tony moaned. 

Peter swallowed down the lump in his throat and forced out the words. “Just be here. Be my dad again. Please, be there. I don’t want you to hide from me anymore. Just be my dad.” 

Tony pulled back, face wet with tears and lips parted as he gasped for breath. “Be your dad?” 

Peter nodded, his eyes pleading with him. “Just that. Please, just be there.” 

Tony was still gasping, breaking apart, but he nodded and pulled Peter against his chest, clinging to him so tightly that it was hard for Peter to breathe, but Tony’s hands were on his head and holding his back, and he said the words that Peter needed to hear most. 

“Okay, son. I’ll be your dad. I’m going to be there. I promise.” 

Peter breathed a sigh of relief. It was overwhelming. This was what he needed, his dad beside him instead of being left alone as he fought a losing battle, and now he would have it. 

He hid his face against Tony and cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://ibb.co/NCLWjj0)  
> Artwork by Monireh89 on Tumblr. Link to her tumblr [here](https://monireh89.tumblr.com/). You should totally check out the other works she's done.


	27. Chapter 27

Tony was startled awake when he heard someone coming into the kitchen. Blinking tiredly, he looked up to see May standing over them, her eyes sad as she took in Peter, who was curled up against Tony’s side on the floor, fast asleep. 

Tony hadn’t meant to fall asleep. He’d told himself that he would just hold Peter until they both calmed down again, but his exhaustion must have crept up on him because he woke on the cold tile with a kink in his neck hours later. 

He wondered how long Peter had been there, awake and helpless to move while he slept. How long before he’d finally surrendered and fallen asleep himself. 

May bent over and touched Peter’s cheek. He didn’t even stir. “He’s cold,” she said. 

Guilt washed over him. “Damn. Can you hold him a moment while I get up? I’ll get him back to bed.” 

May nodded and knelt. Tony eased Peter against her, then stood on creaking knees, stopping over to hook his arms under Peter, lifting him against his chest. He was shocked by how light he was. He’d carried Peter recently, helping him in and out of the chair, but he’d been much heavier before. 

May wheeled the chair forward, but Tony shook his head and carried him into his bedroom himself. He laid Peter on the bed and examined him, tugging the t-shirt down to see his bony shoulders and thin arms. He lifted the hem of the shirt and exposed his ribs. 

A hushed curse left him. He had no idea this was happening. Surely, they’d have told him if Peter wasn’t eating. Or maybe they wouldn’t. Pepper had made it clear that she was done with him, and he’d not seen May at all. Peter had evidently been wasting away without him knowing. 

“I know,” May said. “He is eating enough; it’s just his body isn’t able to process the nutrition properly.” She hesitated. “He’s in pain, too.” 

Tony dropped onto the side of the bed and buried his face in his hands. “Oh, god.” 

“He’s not saying it, but I know he’s dipping into the Tylenol in the bathroom cabinet. Pepper and I have been monitoring it, making sure he’s not taking too much, but he’s been taking enough.” 

“I should have known.” 

“Yes. You should.” Her voice was firm and to the point. “But I think that’s going to change now, isn’t it?” 

“It is.” He looked up at her. “I swear. I’m going to be there from now on, whatever he needs.” 

She nodded. “It was supposed to be Coney Island today, but I think he should get some rest instead. I’ll call Ned and put him off until tomorrow. We can make it special here today instead. Get take-out for dinner.” 

She leaned past Tony and covered Peter, stroking his hair and face, and then straightened up and narrowed her eyes at Tony. 

“I know,” he said, forestalling her tirade. “I was wrong.” 

“You were.” She nodded. “You were trying to save him, I understand, but you could have done that and still been with him. You left him alone for weeks. You wasted so much time.” 

Tony nodded. He knew how much he’d wasted and how bad that was because there wasn’t much left. It was evidenced by Peter’s declining condition, and the realization made him sick. 

Peter stirred, and Tony placed a hand on his chest, feeling his heart thrumming under his palm. “Get some sleep, Pete. I’ll be here later.” 

Peter’s lips tugged into a smile, and he settled. 

Tony looked up again, and May was scowling at him. “I wonder if you know,” she said thoughtfully, “just how much he loves you.” 

Tony flinched. “If it’s anywhere near as much as I love him, it’s a hell of a lot.” 

“I’ve hated you,” she stated. “With every single thing we did for him on his list, with every smile, I saw the sadness that you weren’t there. You were hurting him, and I was so angry at you. You didn’t just waste time to be with him, you wasted time to love him, too.” 

Tony bowed his head. “I can’t make that right for him, but I loved him even when I wasn’t there. I did this to save him, at least that was part of it. I was trying to save him because I thought it was on me, but I was hiding, too.” He pressed a hand to his head. “I’ve not loved anyone the way I loved him. I feel like it’s all on me. Every bump and bruise is my fault because I wasn’t there to protect him. He’s so young and vulnerable. And right now, he’s so weak.” 

“He’s not that weak.” 

Tony gestured at him. “Look at him!” 

“Physically, yes, he’s weak, but mentally, he’s the strongest of us all. I’ve seen people a lot older than him facing this situation, their own death, without half the strength Peter has shown. He’s a hero in a way that has nothing to do with a suit.” 

Tony agreed. He knew Peter was a hero. He’d always seen it. He’d been braver than Tony throughout this whole situation, but looking at him now, seeing how far he’d declined, he looked as vulnerable as a newborn baby. 

“I’m going to get coffee started,” she said, and Tony picked up that she needed a minute. 

“I’ll be there in a minute.” 

“Clean yourself up first. You look like hell.” 

Tony patted Peter’s shoulder once more and then followed her out, heading to his and Pepper’s room, while she went to the kitchen. 

When he stepped into the room, he could hear the distant hum of running water and realized Pepper was in the shower. He went into the bathroom and turned on the sink, splashing his face. Looking into the mirror above, he was struck by how awful he looked. His once meticulous beard was completely out of control, running riot on his face, and his eyes were shadowed and dull. Still, he looked better than Peter did, and that struck him with pain all over again. 

He forced the pain back, getting his trimmer from the cabinet and beginning to fix the mess of his beard. As he did, his eyes began to sting, and he made no effort to stop the tears. His breaths hitched. This was grief, not anxiety, and he didn’t fight it. He needed to feel it. 

The trimmer clattered into the sink as his fingers numbed and dropped to grip the sides of the sink to hold himself up. The sobs were coming freely now, and so were the tears. His nose was congested, and his throat felt tight. He let himself feel it, letting the grief wash over him and away. 

“Tony?” he heard Pepper behind him, and then she turned him by the shoulders and hugged him against her. He could feel the soft weave of the towel she had wrapped around herself. Her hand cradled his head. “It’s okay.” 

“He’s dying. He’s really dying.” 

She drew a shaky breath. “Yes. He is.” 

“I don’t know if Bruce can fix this, and Cho is still off the grid. What if we can’t do it.” 

She didn’t answer as they both already knew what would happen. She began to cry, too, burying her face against him as they grieved together. 

Though he was wracked with sobs, chest aching and eyes stinging, he felt more alert and alive now than he had in a long time. He was finally facing the truth of what might happen instead of hiding from it with science. 

The fight wasn’t his. It had never been his. It was Bruce’s to find the cure and Peter’s to keep going long enough for it to be found. 

And from what he had seen when he held Peter in his arms and settled him in the bed, he didn’t know Peter had that fight left in him. 

* * *

“Mr. Stark?” 

“Tony,” he corrected. 

Ned grinned. “Tony, should—” His face fell. “Should I be scared?” 

Tony pointedly stared at Peter, who was standing near the water, apparently watching the two children that were splashing in the waves ahead of him. 

“No, I don’t think he’s going to drown that far from the water.” 

Ned shuffled. “That’s not what I meant.” 

“What has Peter told you?” 

“He says we’re doing all this cool stuff because he’s happy to be alive.” 

“That’s true,” Tony said, then regretted it because his tone carried more meaning than he’d intended. 

“Yeah, but is that because he survived the accident or because he’s like … sick or something?” He rubbed his nose. “He looks sick. He’s lost all that weight, and he gets tired fast.” 

Tony stared down at the kid and saw his genuine fear. He had two choices. He could comfort Ned, tell him Peter was fine, or he could help him prepare himself for what would happen if Bruce failed. 

The decision wasn’t easy, and he knew it wasn’t his place to be the one to do either. 

“You should talk to Peter.” 

It seemed like enough of an answer for Ned because he turned away, wiping a hand over his face. “I’ve got to go to the restroom,” he muttered, and scrambled to his feet, rushing away. 

Tony bowed his head. Another mistake. He’d just broken a kid’s heart, and apparently, it wasn’t the first time he’d done it. He’d already broken Peter’s when he hid from him for those weeks. 

He got to his feet, brushing the sand off his pants and walking to where Peter was standing. He placed a hand on the kid’s shoulder when he got there. “You okay, Pete?” 

Peter turned to him, a broad smile on his face. “Yeah. I’m great, and I was thinking. There’s something I’d like to do.” 

“Sure, whatever you want,” Tony said. 

“I want to swim.” 

Tony drew back in surprise. He was expecting something big, maybe like a skydive, which he’d seen at the top of Peter’s list, something he was hoping they’d skip. “Swim?” 

Peter nodded. “Yeah. Swim. In the ocean. I’ve never done it before.” 

“Okay. Let’s get you into the ocean.” 

“Can you help? I want to take the braces off.” 

The fact he was asking, that he couldn't do it himself probably wasn’t easy for him, but Tony smiled and said, “Sure.” 

He carefully helped Peter to sit on the sand, then began unstrapping the braces, helping Peter slip out of his jeans and down to his swim shorts. Tony straightened, tugging off his own t-shirt and jeans. Peter grinned at his blue swim trunks with their yellow sharks and said, “Cute shorts.” 

“Pepper picked them out,” Tony said. “I think she was feeling particularly vengeful that day. And when I was getting dressed this morning, I found that all my other pairs had disappeared. 

Peter laughed. “That’s pretty mean.” 

“Yep. I’ll get her back. Maybe I can replace all her eyeliner with Sharpies.” 

“I don’t think you’d live long if you did that.” 

“Nope, you’re probably right.” 

Bending, he lifted Peter into his arms. Peter’s arm rested over his shoulders, and his eyes were on the water. He seemed eager to swim. Tony tried to ignore the lack of healthy weight and the bones that he could see jutting out under Peter’s skin, but he wasn’t wholly successful, and he wasn’t the only one. People were staring at them, and Tony didn’t think it was just because Iron Man was on the beach. 

Peter didn’t seem to notice the scrutiny, or perhaps he just didn’t care anymore. He just grinned and shivered with what Tony thought was excitement as the water started to lap Tony’s legs. The water was cold, and he gripped Peter a little tighter as he waded deeper. The water began to lap over Peter’s legs, but, of course, there was no reaction to the temperature until it reached his stomach, then he gasped. 

“Too cold?” Tony asked. 

“No. It’s awesome.” 

When the water was deep enough to reach his Peter’s chest, he planted his feet and steadied them as the waves rolled over. 

Peter stared down at his legs as they moved with each wave. “Look,” he said, his tone awed. “It’s like I’m moving them myself.” 

Tony watched, seeing it, too. The gentle motions of the water were different than the braces. This looked natural and as if Peter was really controlling the movements. 

“Yep,” he said. “Hold on.” 

He lifted Peter higher out of the water, gripping him tightly, as a massive wave approached and slammed into him. It doused his hair and face, and he quickly checked on Peter, who was drenched but laughing. 

Tony bit back the question of if he was okay, reminding himself that Peter could judge his own needs and condition. 

“Tony,” Peter said, a glint in his eyes. “Can you dunk me?” 

Tony raised an eyebrow. “You’re not wet enough already.” 

“No. Please?” 

“Hold your breath then.” 

Peter took a deep breath and then puffed his cheeks. Tony bent at his knees and lowered them both under the water. He saw Peter’s eyes widen and his lips part with a breath that bubbled up above them. He seemed so happy, and Tony let them linger underwater for a few seconds until he knew Peter would need air. 

Their head broke the water, and Peter was beaming at him. “That was so cool.” He looked back at the beach. “We should get back. Ned’s waiting.” 

Ned was on the shore, waving to them. Tony nodded as Peter raised a hand and started back for the beach. He worried about Peter seeing Ned, unsure how Ned was handling the shocking news he had gotten, or well, surmised might be a better word. But when they got closer, and Tony was able to get a good look at him, he could see that Ned had pulled himself together. The evidence of his tears was gone, and he was grinning again. 

“Was drowning one of those things you wanted to do to celebrate being alive?” Ned asked when they reached him. 

Peter laughed. “No, I just wanted to get in the water for a while.” 

Ned shrugged. “Sure.” 

Tony placed Peter down on the sand, wrapping a towel around his shoulders and laying another over his legs. Peter looked cold, goosebumps dotting his skin, but Tony was sure the sun would warm him up and dry him off in no time. The last thing he wanted was Peter to catch a cold. 

Ned dropped down on the sand beside them, stretching out his legs. “So, what’s next on the list?” he asked. “We doing the Thunderbolt?” 

“Yeah,” Peter said excitedly. “Definitely. Tony?” 

Tony glanced over his shoulder at the rollercoaster that was running behind them, the drops were steep and the turns hard. He hadn’t been on a rollercoaster in more years than he could count. These days his thrills came from strapping on the suit and pushing it to its limits. That didn’t mean it wasn’t something he would like to do with Peter, though, and if his reactions to swimming were anything to go by, it would be something to treasure. 

“Sure. You need to get dried off first, though.” 

Peter touched his damp shorts and said, “Okay. We’ll hang here a while.” 

Peter leaned back on his elbows, lifting his face into the sun. Tony looked at him, not seeing the sharp lines of his cheeks and jaw, the shadowed eyes. He just saw his kid and appreciated every moment. 

He felt warmth in his chest that he knew was a surge of love for Peter. It didn’t hurt him for once. He wasn’t thinking of what he stood to lose. He just saw what he had now. 

He was seeing his son. 

* * *

“Ned…” Peter wheedled. 

“No. A world of no. A universe of no. No to Asgard and back while swinging off Thor’s hammer.” 

Tony grinned. “You know, Thor could probably manage that for you if you were interested.” 

Ned looked excited for a moment and then shook his head. “No.” 

Peter sighed. He knew it was a long shot to get Ned on the Ferris wheel, but he’d been hoping he could pull it off. After all, Ned had seen him holding a spider, and that had ended up feeling pretty good—once it was over anyway. He would have gotten a kick out of helping Ned face his fear. 

Tony apparently took pity on him as he said, “Okay, Ned, you’ll be okay while Peter and I ride?” 

Ned eyed the wheel and shrugged. “If you’re up for putting your lives in the hands of some kid controlling a death trap, sure. Actually, since you’re both superheroes, you’ll probably be okay with that. Sure, I’ll get another funnel cake.” 

Tony reached into his pocket, but Ned held up his hand. “Nah, it’s cool. Mom set me up for the day with plenty of money. I’ll see you if you survive.” 

A strange look came into his eyes for a moment, and then it was quickly banished as he waved a hand and walked away to the cart selling the treats. 

Peter had a feeling that Ned knew. He wasn’t sure when he’d caught on the real meaning of Peter’s list, but he had. Peter could tell by the subtle looks his friend was giving him. Peter had seen in Ned’s eyes when Tony had brought him back to shore after swimming. The sadness in Ned’s expression wasn’t fully covered by his smile. Peter didn’t think that Tony would have told him, but the changes to Peter’s body made it obvious now. 

Tony clapped him on the shoulder and said, “Okay, Pete, let’s do this.” 

They joined the small line beside the Wonder Wheel and slowly moved along until it was their turn. 

Tony stood back and let Peter get into the seat first. Peter could tell it was hard for Tony to stand by and not help him, and Peter started to feel tired and struggling a bit to lift his legs high enough to get. He managed, though, shifting himself along to make room for Tony, then the man settled in beside him, and the bar was lowered. 

They began to move, and Peter looked around as they slowly rose. Peter had been higher than this since the accident, the hot air balloon ride had been cool, but this was different. Even though it wasn’t as high, it was nice. There was something relaxing about it. He missed being up high. As Spider-Man, he used to enjoy the heights. 

The lights of the rides below them glinted and twinkled, and when they reached the peak, Tony nudged him and said, “It’s time.” 

Peter looked where he was pointing and saw the first of the promised fireworks exploding in the sky. They scattered in sparks of colored lights, and the explosions thrummed in Peter’s ears. 

“Cool, huh?” he said, beaming at Tony. 

“Yeah, pretty cool. You know what we should do, we should set off some fireworks from the tower. Hell, I could tweak some to make them really good.” 

Peter chuckled. “I don’t think Pepper would be on board with you setting off custom fireworks above our home.” 

Tony grinned. “True.” 

They started to lower again, and Peter found Ned sitting on a bench, eating his funnel cake and watching the fireworks. Tony saw where his gaze was and said, “He’s a good kid, a bit of a hellion, and I will find a way to stop him hacking the suit, but—” He flinched. 

Peter knew what was wrong. Ned had no need to hack the suit anymore. Even if Peter hadn’t needed to retire from that life, he wouldn’t have had long left. He didn’t mind the slip, though it clearly bothered Tony. It meant that Tony wasn’t thinking of facts while they were together, the fact Spider-Man was a memory now and that Peter would be soon, too. It meant he was just enjoying the moment, forgetting the sadness for a while. And Peter loved that. 

“You’ll never stop him,” he said smoothly. “Ned’s a genius.” 

Tony raised an eyebrow. “And I’m not.” 

Peter grinned. “No, you are, but I’m pretty sure Ned could still pull it off, no matter what shielding you put in place.” 

A question occurred to Peter, one he’d asked himself when he’d been saying his goodbye to Karen, but he didn’t ask it. He’d forgotten for a while, but he wondered if Tony could find another job for Karen. It was probably dumb, she was an interface, but he didn’t like to think of her existing with nothing to do anymore. He’d ask some other time. Or put it in his letter. 

He’d written one for each of them, almost. He was struggling with Tony’s. He’d not wanted to write it without seeing Tony again, and he’d been gone for so long, and then there hadn’t been time. The day before, when he’d found Tony in the kitchen in the early hours, he’d woken hours later in bed, and he’d been too tired and sore to do more than just watch movies with him, Pepper, and May. And today had been all about Coney Island. 

It had been intended as a trip for him, May, Pepper, and Ned, but Pepper had a meeting come up at work that she couldn’t skip, and May was needed to take an extra shift. Peter wasn’t sure he believed them, he thought they were giving him and Tony a chance to have time together, and Peter was grateful. The day had been great, and Ned had gotten a kick out of hanging with Tony, too. 

They reached the peak again, and Peter’s energy ebbed. He relaxed back in his seat, blinking tiredly, and then an arm wrapped around his shoulders, and he felt himself being pulled against Tony’s side. 

“You rest, kid,” Tony said. “I’ll get us a few more rides around.” 

Peter should argue, he knew, but he was content where he was, and tired, and didn’t think he wanted to move just yet. 

He was happy just being with Tony. 


	28. Chapter 28

“You sure it’s okay for me to be up here?” Peter asked nervously. 

They were in the cockpit of the jet. Peter was sitting beside Tony, looking at the multitude of buttons and controls, wondering how even a genius could remember what they all did. 

Tony nodded. “As long as you don’t press anything and send us down to a fiery death, we’ll be fine.” 

Peter grinned. “I’ll try to resist the urge.” 

They were on the way to Phoenix to visit the Grand Canyon, one of the things Peter had wanted most on his bucket list. Much to Tony’s surprise, Peter didn’t argue about the cost for once, mostly because Tony made it clear that he wanted to go just as much. Apparently, Tony had promised Pepper a trip that they’d never made, so this was an excellent excuse to dust off the jet and go. 

“Air hostess,” Pepper called behind them, striking a pose with a hand on her hip and her other holding a silver tray with a can of soda and a thermos cup of coffee. 

“Thanks, Pep,” Tony said, turning to take the drink. 

Pepper bent in front of Peter and said, “Would you like ice, sir?” 

Peter laughed. “No, but thanks. You make a great hostess.” 

Pepper relaxed and said, “It’s a special occasion. I expect you to wait on me during the flight home.” 

Peter nodded. “Happy to.” 

Tony flipped open his cup and took a swig. “Perfect,” he said. “You’re a marvel, Pep.” 

Pepper stroked his hair. “I know.” 

She perched on the edge of Peter’s seat and placed a companionable hand on his shoulder. “Shame May couldn’t come.” 

“It is,” Peter said, and it was the truth. He missed May and wished he could share this with her, too. 

“Shame?” Tony scoffed. “She’s a coward. Flying is nothing to worry about.” 

“I don’t think flying was the problem,” Pepper says, winking at Peter. “I think her exact words were ‘I’d sooner pull a week of double shifts than trust Stark in control of a plane with me in it.’” She laughed. 

“That hurts,” Tony said. “I’m a good pilot.” 

“You’re an excellent pilot.” Pepper leaned over and stroked Tony’s hair. “She knows it, too. She’d never have let Peter fly with you otherwise.” 

Peter ducked his head and grinned. There were a lot of things on his list that hadn’t managed yet, but there was one thing he wanted that he was too afraid to put on the list, thinking it went too far. He wanted to fly, really fly, in the Iron Man suit. He knew it was possible because Rhodey did it in his braces. And it would be a dream come true, but he didn’t want to ask because he knew Tony would say no. 

Tony took another swig of coffee. “We’re almost there. Get a good look at it. You won’t get a better view than this.” 

Peter leaned forward, staring out at the ground beneath the clouds, then Tony took them a little lower, and he saw the vast canyon below them. 

“Oh, wow…” he breathed. “That’s amazing.” 

“It is,” Pepper agreed. “Thank god you wanted this, Peter. I don’t think he’d ever have brought me otherwise.” 

“Well, you know how it is,” Tony said easily. “You can only have one favorite, and that’s the one that gets the treats.” 

Pepper sighed theatrically and said, “Don’t I know it. I’m a Spider-Son widow.” 

Peter knew she was joking, and he laughed, but it did make him think of something he’d not considered before. When it was over, when he was gone, Tony and Pepper would still have each other. Ned would have his family. But May would be alone. He didn’t want to break the moment between them, but he felt urgently now that he had to do something about it. He couldn't leave May alone, not after she had lost Ben, too. 

Before he could decide what to do, Tony said, “Buckle in. We’re heading down.” 

Peter leaned back in his seat, snapping on the seatbelt. Pepper disappeared into the plane's depths as they banked left and gradually got closer to the ground. The runway was ahead of them, and he watched as it seemed to rush up to meet them, and then with a gentle thud, they were touching down and decelerating. 

The plane came to a halt, and Tony touched the controls, then glanced back over his shoulder. “Okay, before she shows up and starts ordering us around, I need an opinion.” 

Confused, Peter nodded and said, “Sure.” 

Reaching into his pocket, Tony pulled out a small velvet blue box. He flipped it open, holding it out to Peter. There was a gold ring nestled in the silk lining with small diamonds set in the edges like stars. “What do you think?” 

Peter stared at it, “It’s beautiful. Really pretty.” 

Tony rolled his eyes. “Of course it’s ‘pretty,’ I designed it, but is it good enough for Pepper?” 

“Yeah.” Peter was still wondering what Tony was asking him. 

Tony sighed. “You’re killing me, kid. This is a wedding ring. Pepper is going to be my wife. Do you think she’ll like it?” 

Peter’s mouth dropped open. “You’re getting married? Like really married, not just engaged?” 

Tony grinned. “That’s what usually follows the engagement process, yes. I’ve got it all arranged for tomorrow, we’re doing it. She has no idea since I might have fudged things a little to get the license, but I’m pretty sure she’ll say I do anyway. But… is the ring good enough?” 

Peter examined it with a new determination, grinning as he imagined the ring on Pepper’s finger. The idea of them finally marrying—it was awesome. And he’d get a chance to see it. That thought made his eyes prickle. He never thought he’d live to see them married. He figured it would have happened eventually, but not until some point far in the future. They both seemed so busy. 

“It’s perfect.” Peter beamed. “Really. She’s going to love it.” 

Tony grinned and then quickly stuffed it back in his pocket. “May and others are all staying in the next hotel, so it’ll just be you, me, and Pepper until just before the ceremony tomorrow. Don’t say a word.” 

Peter mimicked zipping his lips and grinned. Tony had done an excellent job pretending May wouldn’t fly out with them. Pepper had no idea. He had one concern, though. “Uh… Tony … What about the dress? I thought that was a big deal for women.” 

Tony grinned, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. “It is, but luckily Happy knew where she’d been shopping, so I could go in and find out which one she’d put aside. She doesn’t think I know about it, but Happy is pretty good about tipping me off most of the time.” He looked over his shoulder and said, “One more thing before she shows up. I’m going to need a best man.” 

“Sure, Rhodey’s here, too, right?” 

Tony blew out an exasperated breath. “And Pep calls me a stupid genius. I want you to be my best man, Pete. I can’t think of anyone better. You up for it?” 

Peter’s breath caught, and he had to focus, not letting the prickle in his eyes become tears. He nodded and said, “Yeah, absolutely.” 

Tony clapped him on the shoulder. “Let’s get out of here. I’ve got us a donkey ride into the canyon booked in an hour.” 

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?” 

Tony snorted. “Can you picture me riding a donkey? No, kid. We’re not riding donkeys. But we can fix it for you if you’re interested.” 

Peter shook his head, a small smile on his face. “I’ll give it a miss, thanks.” 

Tony got to his feet, and Peter unsnapped his seatbelt, pushing himself to stand. He steadied himself on the back on the chair when his legs began to waver. Once his feet were under him, he followed Tony out. They found Pepper waiting for them, her foot tapping. 

“What were you two doing in there?” 

“Just talking,” Tony said innocently. “Peter was trying to persuade me to do a donkey ride, but I figured we’d give it a miss and go for a dip in the hot tub, instead.” 

“Hot tub? Tony, we’re at the Grand Canyon. You can soak if you like, but me and Peter are going to make the most of this, right, Peter?” 

She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and Peter nodded. “Definitely.” 

He was going to see the Canyon today, and tomorrow he’d get to see his dad marry the woman he loved. 

* * *

Tony could tell Peter was anxious that morning as they ate breakfast. He kept glancing around at the people at their tables, and Tony was worrying he was going to tip Pepper off if he didn’t cut it out. 

He didn’t mind, though. The fact he was so hyped about the wedding meant a lot to Tony. He’d not expected that. The fact the kid had such a hard time catching on to what Tony was saying when he’d told and asked him to be his best man was kind cute. 

Thankfully, Tony saw the restaurant door open, and May, Rhodey, and Happy came in, May carrying the dress in its silver cover. They were all grinning, and when Peter saw them, his breath rushed out in a laugh. 

Pepper looked from them to the door, her mouth dropping open. “Uh … Tony? What’s going on?” 

With a nod to Peter, Tony slipped out of his chair and dropped to his knee beside her, holding out the box with the wedding band in it. “I know we’ve already done this part, but I thought we could actually do the marriage part now.” 

Pepper clapped a hand to her mouth. “Are you kidding?” 

Tony’s face fell. “That’s a no?” 

Pepper shook her head. “No, idiot, it’s a yes. It’s just a shock. And I’ve not got anything to wear.” 

“That’s where I come in,” May said, holding up the garment bag. 

Pepper pulled Tony close, kissing him firmly on the lips. 

“How long do I have?” she asked. 

Tony checked his watch and said, “Three hours. I figure it’ll take Pete and me that long to make ourselves look pretty.” 

She swatted his arm. “You’re funny. But I’ve got to go.” She jumped up and said, “I’ve got our room. Where are you two going?” 

“It’s all sorted,” Tony said. “We’ve got everything we need, and Happy will swing by to pick you up when it’s time.” 

Pepper beamed, and then she and May rushed out of the restaurant together, chatting animatedly. 

Tony sat down again and said, “Grab a seat, you guys. We’ve got plenty of time before we’ve got to get ready.” 

Happy and Rhodey sat down, and Tony gestured over the waiter who brought menus for them to examine and order from, and Peter began to fork up his eggs again. He was grinning, though the shadows under his eyes were darker than they had been the day before. Tony told himself it was just because he’d had a long day before, with the flight and their time exploring the Canyon, but he knew that wasn’t it. 

He shook off the thought, though, reminding himself that this day was for Peter as much as it was him and Pepper, and if the kid was tired, they’d make sure he slept later. 

Besides, Peter was obviously happy, and what was what mattered to Tony right now. 

* * *

Though Tony had been perfectly relaxed all morning, Peter could tell he was starting to get edgy once they were in their suits, and he, Peter, and Rhodey were piling into the car that would take them to the place the ceremony would be held. 

He fiddled with his cufflinks and adjusted his tie. 

“Tone…” Rhodey said lazily. 

Tony's eyes snapped to him. “Yes?” 

“Can you calm the hell down? You’re going to give yourself an ulcer.” He nudged Peter. “Come on, buddy, you’re the best man. Give him some words of wisdom.” 

Peter felt a little awkward being the best man with Rhodey there, but the man seemed perfectly happy with the situation. 

“Okay … uh … wisdom.” He licked his lips, mind blank. “Pepper is great, and you get to have forever with her after today.” 

Tony raised an eyebrow. “That’s wisdom?” 

Peter shook his head. “No, but it’s a fact. This is just standing up in front of a judge or whatever and saying some words. The scary part is already done. She loves you, and you love her.” He shrugged. “I’ve never been in love, but I know that it’s pretty scary to let yourself trust someone with your heart, so the scary bit is over.” 

Tony stared at him, seeming to be seeing something more than just the skinny kid in his grey suit, and he nodded. “That is actually pretty wise. And you’re right. The scary bit is over.” 

Peter smiled, feeling bolstered. He was struck by the thought that he had never experienced romantic love and never would, but the thought didn’t trouble him the way it once would have. He might not have been in love, but he had loved. He loved Tony and May, and Pepper and Ned, and the only scary part was trusting that they wouldn’t leave him the way his parents and Uncle Ben had. Instead, he was the one leaving them. 

The car came to a stop, and they climbed out. A woman in a blue pantsuit rushed toward them and said, “Mr. Stark. Great to meet you at last. Everything is ready for you.” 

Peter looked around, taking in the area. There were white chairs with ribbons on their arms, and a beautiful flower arched stood at the end of a walkway. There was a table with plates of canapes and bottles of champagne in silver buckets waiting beside rows of sparkling glasses. It was surprisingly lowkey for Tony, but he thought Pepper would like it better this way. She always seemed happiest when she got home at the end of the day and could disappear into her room, coming out in sweats with her hair in a messy bun. 

“We need you to speak to the judge,” the woman said, leading Tony away to a man in a black suit. 

Rhodey stood beside Peter and said, “You okay, kid?” 

“What? Yeah. I’m fine.” 

“Nervous?” 

Peter shrugged. “I don’t really know what I have to do to be the best man. I looked online last night, but it was all about speeches and stuff, and I don’t think it’s going to be that kind of wedding.” His eyes widened. “Is it?” 

Rhodey laughed. “Definitely not. Tony hates speeches. He says he’s listened to too many of them in boring meetings and tends to fall asleep the moment they start. All you’ve got to do is stand up there for him and hold the rings.” 

Peter nodded. “Yeah. I can handle that.” 

“Of course you can. Tony wouldn’t have asked otherwise.” 

Peter bit his lip. “I didn’t expect it. I figured it would…” 

Rhodey chuckled. “Be me? Maybe it would have been once, when Tony needed someone to make sure he didn’t run off at the last minute and steal a getaway car, but he’s not that man anymore. He chose right.” 

Peter shifted awkwardly. “Yeah, but you know him better.” 

“I don’t think I do. I’ve known him longer, sure, and he’s my best friend, but you’re his kid, Peter. You know him better in a different way. This, Tony and Pepper getting married, means you’ll become a real family. Nothing I’ve ever been able to do for Tony can match that. With you and Pepper, he’s got the family he deserves.” 

Peter had to swallow hard as he was a bit overwhelmed. He didn’t think of it like that. They already felt like a family, him and Tony, Pepper, and May, but this was making it real. 

“Head’s up,” Rhodey said. “It’s time.” 

Tony came back to them, shifting from foot to foot, and then the woman Peter guessed was the wedding planner came over and said, “Positions, gentlemen.” 

Rhodey stood, and Peter and Tony went to the altar. Peter stood to the side, watching his friend as the car drew up. He knew the moment Pepper was revealed, even though he wasn’t looking, as Tony’s face broke into a huge smile, and all the tension seemed to seep out of him. 

He looked away, seeing May adjust the folds of the dress Pepper was wearing, white and lacy and really pretty. Peter wasn’t a fashion expert, but he imagined it was an expensive dress—no less than what Pepper deserved. May came forward to stand beside Rhodey as Pepper looped her arm through Happy’s and started down the aisle. Classical music began to play from the table where the food and drinks were set up. 

As she approached, Peter’s eyes moved between Pepper and Tony, seeing the blinding happiness in both faces. 

When Pepper and Happy reached them, Happy placed Pepper’s hand in Tony’s and said, “There you go, boss.” 

Tony thanked him and then looked into Pepper’s eyes, his own shining with happiness. 

Peter saw the moment it happened when he and May, Rhodey and Happy, ceased to exist for Tony and Pepper. It was just them and the judge. All that mattered was this moment and ritual. 

He watched, his smile so wide it was hurting his face. He’d seen Tony go through a variety of emotions, but he’d never seen him in real joy before. 

* * *

Peter and May were stretched out on lounge chairs on the balcony of his room, staring up at the stars. 

The wedding was perfect. The ceremony had been something special to witness. Peter had been startled when it was time for him to hand over the rings as he’d been so consumed with what he was seeing. It wasn’t the romance or sentimentality. It was seeing two people he loved so wholly happy and committed to a moment in time. 

When it was over, and May had given him a nod of permission to have a glass of champagne, but he didn’t like it. It went up his nose and tasted funny, but he figured it was an experience. 

They’d spent a few hours at the reception, talking and taking pictures with the pushy photographer that had been hired for the occasion. Even as blissed out as Tony was, Pepper had still needed to soothe him when he began shouting orders. 

Tony did not take orders well. 

Peter gave a little shiver, and May’s eyes settled on him. “You cold?” 

“Yeah, but I’m okay.” 

May sat up, and he expected her to go into the room to get him a blanket, but instead, she just stared at him for a moment. Knowing she had something on her mind, Peter wrangled his legs around, so he was sitting up and facing her, too. 

“What’s up?” he asked. 

“How do you feel, Peter?” she asked. 

“Great. Today was awesome. It’ll kinda suck to go back to the tower tomorrow after being here, but Pepper’s got to work.” He rolled his sore shoulders. “Tony says they’re going big for the honeymoon when she can take time off.” 

May nodded with a smile. “Today was great, but I want to know about you.” 

Peter looked into her eyes and saw the worry there. “I’m okay, really. Sure, it’s getting harder, and I don’t think I’m going to be able to use the braces much longer since I’m not as strong, but that’s okay.” 

“Are you in pain?” 

“Yes, but the Tylenol is good for it.” 

May gave him a serious look. “I need to make a deal with you, Peter.” 

“Sure.” 

“I need you to start telling me how you feel. When you need stronger painkillers, I need to know so I can arrange that. I don’t want you to feel I don’t trust you, but I know you hide stuff to protect us, and you mustn’t do that anymore.” 

Peter sighed. “I know. I will tell you. But I don’t want you all worrying. I can handle it right now.” 

“Honey, we’re going to worry more if we think you’re hiding stuff. And we don’t want you ‘handling’ pain when we have a way to ease it.” She moved to sit beside him and held his hand. “None of us want you to suffer.” 

A question rose to Peter’s lips, but he bit it back. If he could ask anyone these questions, it’d be May as she was the one that knew the most, and he thought she was the strongest of them all now. But he didn’t want to hurt her before he had to. It wasn’t time. 

“What?” she asked, stroking his cheek. “Tell me.” 

Peter examined her for a moment and then released the question in a whisper. “Is it going to hurt when I die?” 

May flinched, squeezing her eyes closed and taking a breath. When she opened them again, she smiled at him. “No, I promise you that. I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt.” She seemed to hesitate on the verge of speech for a moment, and he nodded for her to go on. “Doctor Banner and I have made arrangements for when it’s time. We’ve got everything prepared so you can stay in the tower.” 

“In my own room?” Peter asked hopefully. 

She nodded. “If that’s what you want. There is another room prepared with what you might need, but we can make sure it’s your room if you like.” 

“Yeah, that’d be good. I’d like to be there.” He wanted to be in the place that had become his home, with the Iron Man poster on the wall that he’d never taken down because it made him smile and, in a silly way, feel safe. 

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” she promised. “We’ll make it all as normal for you as we can. There are other things…” 

Peter squeezed her hand. “Say what you need to say. You’re the only one that I can talk to about this, the only one that can tell me what I need. I can’t talk to Tony about it. He can’t…” It felt strange to say that there was something Iron Man couldn’t handle, but he knew Tony couldn’t. “We can’t talk about it.” 

May nodded, seeming to brace herself and then asking, “What kind of support do you want to... give you more time.” 

Peter frowned. “Like what Doctor Banner is trying to do?” 

She shook her head, hand coming up to stroke his face. “No, honey. I mean things that will give you just a little more time. When you can’t breathe, do you want a machine to help you?” 

Peter looked up at the stars, letting the question sink in. There was no clear answer. He didn’t want it, but he didn’t think he could say no either. He didn’t think Tony would ever forgive him if he didn’t use everything he could to extend his time and give Doctor Banner a chance to find a way to fix it. 

“This is about what you want, Peter,” she reminded him, maybe knowing what he was thinking. “Not me, not Tony, only you.” She touched his chin, turning his face to hers. “You are the only one that matters in this.” 

But that wasn’t true. It was about the people he was leaving behind, too. 

He took a deep breath. “I want whatever there is to give me time. If Doctor Banner finds something, I’m going to need to be alive for it, right?” 

May pressed her lips together and then smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. He could tell she believed there was no cure, and maybe there wasn’t. He wasn’t really sure he believed there was. It was possible, though. Stranger things had happened, so he had to buy them all the time he could. 

“Can I ask you to do something for me?” Peter asked, nervously chewing his lip. 

“Anything,” she said, and she sounded so sure. It settled something in Peter. Her hand went to the back of his neck, thumb rubbing soothingly. It was a warm and familiar weight that grounded him. 

“Don’t be mad when it’s over. I know you’re going to be upset, but don’t be mad. And let Tony and Pepper help you. They will, I know. Don’t be on your own.” 

Tears gathered in the corners of May’s eyes, and she raised her face to the sky for a moment before looking down at her lap. Tears trickled down her cheeks. “You’re right. I am going to be upset. I am so scared to lose you, honey, but I know I can be strong as you’ve shown me how. And I will let Pepper and Tony help me, and I promise to help them. This family will stay together.” 

Peter’s face spread with a wide smile. “Thank you.” The relief he felt, the confidence and promise in her voice, was heady. He really believed they were going to be together without him. May would be taken care of, Tony and Pepper, too. They’d all take care of each other. 

May kissed his cheek and then tugged his face into her shoulder. He thought she might be crying, but it didn’t make him sad anymore. For the first time since he found out what was going to happen, he actually felt that it would be okay for everyone, not just him. He’d accepted that he was going to die, and he’d made peace with it, but he’d been scared of the ones he would be leaving. 

He wasn’t scared now, not about any of it. 


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little extra treat for you guys. This is a cute little chapter before things get really rough.

Tony watched Peter as he toyed with his dinner, moving it around the plate and fiddling with his napkin. 

“You not hungry, kid?” 

Peter’s head snapped up, and he frowned. “No. I am.” He quickly took another bite. 

Pepper leaned over the table, patting his hand. “You don’t have to eat for us, Peter. Really.” 

Peter chewed quickly and then said, “It’s not that. It’s just…” He sighed. “I want to talk to you about something, but I don’t want you to think I’m being morbid or giving up or something.” 

Tony winced, knowing who Peter was talking about. He’d been the one to make this situation so hard on the kid. 

“You don’t have to hold back for us, Pete,” he said, pleased by how even his voice was. With Peter’s caveat about being morbid, he was worried about what Peter needed to say. He wasn’t sure he was ready for it. 

Peter eyed him for a moment and then said, “It’s about May. I’m worried about her, you know, after.” 

It felt like something sucked the air out of Tony’s lungs. He couldn’t find the words, he didn’t even know where to start, but Pepper always knew exactly what to say. “Peter, I swear to you that we’re going to take care of May just like we’re going to take care of each other. Aren’t we, Tony?” 

When he didn’t answer fast enough, she kicked his shin. “Yes!” he said roughly and then bit his tongue as the kid’s face fell. “We will take care of May, Peter. I promise. She’s family, too.” 

Peter’s stiff postured relaxed, seeming relieved. “Thank you. I know Ned will be okay, and you’ve got each other, but May would be on her own.” 

“She won’t be alone for a second longer than she wants to be,” Tony said. “We’ll be there for whatever she wants and needs.” 

It was a miracle how steady his voice was given the depth of emotion he was feeling. His heart felt like it was trying to break out of his chest, and his stomach felt weighted with lead. He didn’t want to think of Peter dying, of what would happen if Bruce couldn’t pull it off, but he knew they were running out of time. If Bruce’s predictions were right, Peter only had weeks left. 

Heart racing and his breaths coming too fast, Tony jumped to his feet, latching onto any distraction he could. “Dessert!” he announced, snatching away the plates of half-eaten food and carrying to the counter. “We’ve got pie and ice cream. That sound good?” 

“Yeah, great,” Peter said. 

Pepper got to her feet, joining him at the fridge where he was hiding his face, trying to get himself back under control. 

“You got it?” she whispered in his ear. 

He nodded, taking a steadying breath. 

She raised her voice and said, “I’ll serve the ice cream as Tony is stingy with it. He’s always keeping it for himself to eat in the middle of the night.” 

Tony made a suitable sound of protest, but Peter was laughing and saying, “Yeah, he does.” 

“Busted, Stark,” Pepper said, squeezing his hand and reaching past to grab the pie. “Peter, go get comfy on the couch and pick out a movie for us to watch while we eat.” 

Peter got to his feet and made slow progress toward the couch while Tony focused on breathing for a moment. When his nerves settled, he pasted on a smile, grabbing the pint of ice cream from the freezer. 

“That’s it,” Pepper whispered. “You’ve got it.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I do,” Tony agreed, and he did. It was the truth. It had been almost too hard to handle, he’d almost broken, but his wife’s knack of covering for him and his kid’s laughter had gotten him through it. 

He and Pepper doled out the dessert and then went to the couch where Peter was searching through the available movies. He didn’t seem entirely focused on it, though, and Tony was unsurprised when he set down the remote and said, “There was something else I wanted to ask.” 

Tony braced himself, hoping his heart could take it, and said, “Go ahead.” 

“There was something I wanted to do, I didn’t put it on the list because I figured it was too crazy, but if you don’t ask then you don’t get and—” 

Tony held up a hand to cut off the rapid flow of words and said, “Whatever you want, Pete.” 

Peter beamed. “I’d like to have a go in the Iron Man suit.” 

Pepper froze, spoon halfway to her mouth, and Tony just blinked. He had to think through what Peter had just said. His instinct was to say no, it was too crazy, too dangerous, but then he realized that it really wasn’t. Hot air balloons, skydiving—which Peter hadn’t done but still wanted to try—were dangerous. Without an enemy opposite him, the suit was actually the safest place Peter could be. Tony would be in control through Friday, yet he could still give the kid the thrill of flight and speed again. 

He nodded. “Yeah, sure. After you’ve finished your dessert?” 

Peter’s mouth dropped open. “Yes? Seriously, yes? I can do it?” 

Tony felt Pepper’s eyes boring into him, but he didn’t meet them. “Seriously, you can do it.” He held up a finger. “I am going to be right by your side, Friday will be in control of the suit, and you won’t try doing anything stupid.” 

Peter made a cross over his chest. “I swear. I’ll be careful.” He grinned, vibrating with excitement. “This is going to be awesome.” 

Tony smiled, meeting Pepper’s eyes at last. She had a quizzical eyebrow raised but didn’t seem to be about to ream him out for being stupid, so he took that as a win. Maybe she saw, like he did, that it meant a lot to Peter and was something Tony could do. He’d make sure Peter was safe throughout. It would be good for the kid to have some freedom again, to feel the rush of adrenaline in his veins. 

“Eat your dessert, kid,” he said. “We’ve got to get this done without your aunt finding out. She’s not going to be so openminded about you being Iron Boy.” 

Peter grinned and began to spoon up his dessert in a rush. Tony watched him, then ate his own, feeling pretty good about what they were going to do. 

* * *

For the first time since the accident, Tony actually felt like Peter was safe again. The suit around him really was armor, and he’d have Tony at his side to protect him. 

“Okay,” he said. “You ready for this?” 

“Definitely,” Peter said eagerly. 

Tony nodded. “Okay, Friday, take him up. Three hundred feet above the tower.” 

Peter shot up a split second ahead of him, but Tony was right there beside him as they flew into the air. Tony could hear Peter’s shouts of excitement as the rose, which was followed by laughter as he moved his hands back and forth, shifting in the air at the height Tony directed. 

He considered telling Friday to control it, but he knew Peter was safe, and the kid deserved the freedom. That was the point, after all. 

Peter turned in a circle as he laughed. The sound filled Tony’s ears and made his heart lighter. Peter was happy, and Tony had done it. All the times he’d let him down felt like nothing now with the sound of Peter’s laugh. 

“Can we go higher?” Peter asked. 

“Sure, Friday, keep him at my side.” He aimed his thrusters and then shot up another five hundred feet, and then Tony decided to give Peter something a little more. “On my side, Friday,” he ordered and then aimed them over Manhattan and fired into the sky. 

Peter whooped with excitement and then laughed again, occasional words slipping through, “This is the coolest thing! Wow. I can’t believe I’m doing this.” 

“Your choice, Pete,” Tony said, his happiness clear in his voice. “Where do you want to go next?” 

“Up!” Peter said again. 

“You got it.” 

Peter whooped again as they rose, and then his laughter began again. When they were high enough that Tony thought Peter would be satisfied, he asked, “Where next?” 

Peter answered without hesitation. “Queens. My apartment. I want to get on the roof.” 

Surprised but the simplicity of the request, but pleased he could answer his wish, Tony directed them towards Queens, Peter flying at his side. He lowered them, taking sweeping routes through the skyscrapers, ducking low into Central Park, scattering joggers and pigeons alike. 

Peter’s sounds of excitement were music to his ears, and Tony absorbed them, letting them fill him, feeling the same joy. 

When they reached Peter's apartment building, they set done on the roof, and Peter’s mask receded to show his flushed face, his eyes shining with happiness. 

“That…” he said, breathing quickly with excitement, “was the coolest thing I’ve ever done.” 

“Cooler than swinging off skyscrapers?” Tony asked, surprised. 

“Yeah. I’ve never gotten that high or moved that fast.” He gave a little shiver. “Can I get the suit off?” 

Tony nodded and gave the order for the suit to recede. Peter stepped out, a little unsteady on his braces, and then headed to the raised ventilation pipe and sat down. He looked around, sighing softly. 

Tony sat beside him and said, “You do this a lot? Sit on the roof.” 

Peter huffed a laugh. “I always have. I used to like to come up here when I was a kid and stare out at the city. Then, when Spider-Man happened, it was a good place to sit and keep an eye on what was happening below.” He lifted his face to the sky and said, “Big moon.” 

“It is.” 

“I kinda like the moon,” Peter said. “When I was a kid, Uncle Ben would come out here with me, and we’d sit under and blanket and talk.” He smiled slightly. 

Tony was surprised. Usually, Peter’s mentions of his uncle were more somber, but he seemed happy to be thinking of him now. Tony didn’t want to unpack that. He didn’t want to know what had changed, why Peter had found a new peace with his uncle’s death. 

He leaned a little closer to Peter and said, “So, what’s next on your list?” 

Peter shrugged. “You know what, I don’t think anything can top tonight, so I should quit trying.” 

Tony’s face fell at the message he heard, that Peter was quitting, but Peter looked up at him and smiled. 

“Just the list,” he said. “I plan to do cool stuff at home and with Ned. And there was something I wanted to ask…” He twisted his fingers together. “It’s Karen. I know it’s dumb and everything, but can you find a new job for her? It’s not fair that she’s just given up because I’m not using my suit anymore.” 

If Peter had framed it in any other way, if he’d indicated to the fact he wouldn’t be there at all, Tony wouldn’t have been able to stand it, but it was done carefully, kindly, and that enabled him to nod and say, “Sure. I’ll fix her up with something. Maybe she and Friday can job share.” 

Peter’s smile widened. “Yeah. That’d be great. She’s really awesome.” 

Tony snorted. “She’s my creation. Of course, she’s awesome. Don’t worry, kid, Spider-Man might be retiring, but I’ll get Karen a new job.” He tousled Peter’s hair, and Peter leaned his head against his shoulder. 

“You tired?” Tony asked. 

“Yeah, a bit.” 

“Then let’s get you home so you can get some sleep. This doesn’t have to be the last time you’re in the suit. We can do it again tomorrow if you like.” 

Peter raised his head. “Seriously?” 

“As long as May doesn’t find out, yeah.” 

Peter caught him off guard by throwing his arms around him and squeezing as tightly as his wasted muscles could manage. A lump formed in Tony’s throat, and it became impossible to swallow when Peter pulled back, looking at him, face shining. “That’s awesome! Thanks, Dad.” 

Tony’s eyes burned, and it felt like his heart was beating in his throat. He had to clear his throat, forcing himself to swallow the lump. “If I had known how much you wanted it, I’d have done it weeks ago. It’s nice to be recognized for my awesomeness.” 

Peter laughed, his shoulder bumping into Tony’s. “You already know you're awesome, though. You don’t need to be told.” 

“It’s nice to hear sometimes,” Tony said with a note of feigned belligerence. 

Peter nodded. “You’re awesome. The most awesome dad ever.” He threw his arms around Tony again and said, “I love you.” 

This time he couldn’t hold back the swell of emotion, and he cradled Peter’s head. With a choked voice, he said, “I love you, too, kid. I really love you.” 

Peter exhaled shakily, and then his grip grew tighter. 

Tony held him, letting the emotion and moment fill him, soothing away all the pain he’d been feeling for a while. 

It would come back, he knew, but in that moment, he was with his kid that loved him. 


	30. Chapter 30

Tony was sleeping. Even though Peter had been tired when they got back to the tower, they’d stayed up to watch a movie. Peter had fallen asleep against him. Tony hadn’t wanted to move him, so he’d just hugged him to his side and let him sleep. When the movie had finally finished, he’d carried Peter to bed. 

His phone was ringing, the sharp ring breaking into his dreams of flying with Peter. 

Pepper nudged him. “Tony, your phone.” 

Blinking tiredly, he reached for it, knocking it off the table. He rolled onto his side, dangling off the bed to pick it up and answer. 

“Hello?” 

“Stark, what do you need enough that you’ve been filling my messages?” 

Tony bolted upright. He knew that voice. He’d been trying to get ahold of the owner of that voice for months. “Helen?” 

“Yes, Tony.” 

He sucked in a shaky breath. He’d all but given up hope of reaching her. “Where have you been?” The words came out harsher than he meant. 

“On location in the back of beyond working on bombing victims.” 

“I need you here, at the tower, yesterday.” 

“What’s happened?” 

“My kid, Peter, has been hurt. He’s… That’s not what matters. He’s dying now. We need you here. We’ve not got long.” They had maybe three weeks left. That was it. Nowhere near long enough. 

“Okay, I’m on my way.” There was the sound of clicking keys in the background. “I’m in Kenya now. I’ll be with you tomorrow.” 

Tony quickly scanned his mind, searching for what facilities he had available in Kenya. “Make it today. I’m texting you a number. Call them, tell them I sent you, and give them the code word Phoenix. They’ll get you here faster.” 

“Okay. I want a full brief ready when I arrive, and I’m going to need your lab.” 

“No problem, I’ll kick Bruce out.” 

“Doctor Banner is there? Keep him. I’ll need his help.” 

Tony thanked her and ended the call, so he could text her the number she’d need. He scrolled through his contacts, then fired off the number. He pressed the phone to his chest, startling when a hand fell on his shoulder. 

“You found Cho?” 

Tony exhaled a shaky breath. “I found Cho. God… I can’t believe this. I’ve got to tell Bruce. I’ve got to tell Peter!” 

Pepper wriggled over the bed and sat beside him, laying a hand on his arm. “Tell Bruce first. He needs to be prepared. Maybe give Peter a little more time.” 

His eyebrows shot up. “He doesn’t have time, Pep. We’ve only got—” He cut himself off. They didn’t have weeks anymore. Soon, they’d have a cure. 

She flinched and then said, “Do something for me first. Tell May. Let her decide if and when to tell Peter anything. At least let her be there when you tell him.” 

Tony nodded. He could do that. “Okay. I’ll go tell Bruce.” 

He pushed himself out of bed, looking down at his bare chest and shorts, then shrugged, walking out of the room and heading to the lab. 

Bruce was in there working, which was expected. The man was pulling lots of all-nighters these days. He looked up at Tony and said, “Okay, I might have—what’s up with you?” 

“Cho is coming,” Tony said, his voice shaky with excitement. “She called. She’ll be here tonight.” 

Bruce visibly sagged, his hands dropping to the table in front of him, and he bowed his head. “Thank god.” 

Tony clapped him on the shoulder. “Get some sleep—in a real bed. She’s going to need a full brief on Peter and what we’ve been doing, but we’ve got time. Sleep.” 

Bruce nodded and smiled. “I will. Thanks, Tony.” 

Tony went back to the penthouse, seeing Pepper closing Peter’s door. “He’s still sleeping. I figure I can make breakfast for us, so he’s got something to wake up to.” 

Tony kissed her. “You’re the most amazing wife in the world.” He lifted her hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to the wedding band and engagement ring on her finger. “Really.” 

“You’re not such a bad husband,” she said. “Go get dressed. I’ll start breakfast.” 

Tony went back to his bedroom, hopping straight in the shower and cleaning up. When he was done, he leaned against the sink and stared at his reflection in the mirror. The difference was huge. He’d been so used to the shadows in his eyes that he’d ceased to see them, but now they were gone. They shone with happiness. 

He was energized and excited. Helen was coming, and if anyone could fix this, it was her. He’d never given up hope on Bruce finding something, even when he’d committed himself to spend more time with Peter, but now there was a real solution on the horizon. Cho could regenerate tissue. Hell, she might be able to give Peter back his legs, too. But that was the least important thing, and that said a lot about what had changed. 

Cleaned and dressed, he went to the kitchen where Pepper was flipping pancakes. Tony checked the time and saw it was too early to call May. She’d been on nightshift and wouldn’t be out yet. He sighed. He was eager to get it done. 

“Set the table,” Pepper commanded with a pointed finger. 

“Yes, ma’am.” Tony went to the drawer and grabbed cutlery and placemats. He set the table, heart thrumming with excitement, and then leaned against the counter, watching Pepper slide the pancakes onto a plate and drumming his fingers. 

Pepper finally looked at him and shook her head. “Okay, you can go wake him for breakfast, but remember—” 

Tony nodded. “I know. Wait to talk to May first, but I just—” 

She smiled. “You want to see him. I get that. Go ahead.” 

Tony rushed to Peter’s bedroom, tapping on the door, then going inside. He saw Peter lying on his side with his head burrowed under the blankets. He smiled and said, “Hey, Pete, Pepper made breakfast. It’s time to wake up.” 

Peter didn’t stir. Tony moved closer, tugging the blankets down to expose his face. Peter’s eyes were closed, and he was unmoving. He was well and truly out. It Tony was patient, he’d usually leave him to sleep a little longer, but today, with how excited he felt, he couldn’t. 

He shook his shoulder gently and said. “Come on, kid, rise and shine.” 

When Peter didn’t stir, he nudged his shoulder. Peter rolled without resistance, flopping onto his back. 

A flicker of worry came to life in Tony’s chest. “Peter!” He gave him a hard shake. “Wake up now.” 

Peter didn’t react. With a shaky hand and horror in his gut, Tony held his hand against Peter’s mouth, feeling shallow and soft breaths brushing his skin, and then he pressed his fingers to his throat and felt a fast, weak pulse thrumming under his fingers. 

“Peter!” He shook him, and after hesitating for a moment, he pushed his knuckles against Peter’s sternum and rubbed. 

There was nothing. 

His hands coming to his hair, he breathed Peter’s name, and then his voice raised to a shout. “Pepper!” 

Bruce was wrong. Peter didn’t have weeks left. They’d run out of time. 

* * *

May adjusted the oxygen cannula under Peter’s nose, checked the monitor beside the bed, and then nodded. Tony stared at it, too. His stats were coming up. His heart rate was too fast, but at least it was steady. The kid was still there. 

Tony didn’t know when all the stuff had arrived, but when Pepper had summoned Bruce to Peter’s room, he’d done a quick assessment. He’d checked his pulse and breathing, adjusted Peter, so his airway was fully open, and then ordered Tony down to the storage room, instructing him to bring back the oxygen tank and red bag he’d set up for Peter. When he got back, Bruce had set up a monitor on a stand and had put gel pads on Peter’s chest. 

The monitor beeped with each beat of Peter’s heart, and the sound gave Tony a sense of relief, as it meant Peter was still there, still breathing and heart still beating. They hadn’t lost him yet. 

May sat on the edge of the bed, cupping Peter’s face in her hand, thumb rubbing his cheek. There was a look of pure misery in her eyes. 

“His blood ox is better now,” she said, speaking without looking at Tony. “That’s good.” 

Tony nodded and then realized he needed to say it, to reassure her he’d heard, that he knew. “Yeah. He’s doing good.” 

“He always does,” she said sadly. 

Bruce came in with a steel stand with a hook on the top and a plastic bag of clear fluid in his hands. “May, does he want …” he trailed off awkwardly. 

May nodded. “He said to do everything.” 

With a look of relief, Bruce edged past Tony to the free side of the bed and took a plastic box out of his pocket, setting up an IV in the back of Peter’s hand. 

“Everything?” Tony asked, his voice weak. 

May pressed her lips together, taking a breath through her nose. “We spoke about it in Phoenix. He said he wants anything that would give him more time.” 

Tony breathed out a rush of air. He didn’t know they had talked about it. He couldn’t imagine May and Peter having that conversation. How could either of them bear to discuss it? He wouldn’t have been able. Maybe that was why Peter chose to speak with May about it and not with him. It was horrifying to think that Peter had to face that conversation, that he had to decide how the end of his life would go. He was far too young, and it just wasn’t fair, but then again, neither was life. 

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. They were going to have more time. Tony was going to take Peter out in the suit again. They were going to fly. 

But they couldn’t fly. Peter was unconscious, not sleeping as Tony wished he was. His body had deteriorated too much for him to stay awake now. And until Cho and Bruce found the cure, if they could, he wasn’t going to wake up again. 

“We need pain relief, too,” May said. 

Bruce nodded and slipped out of the room. 

“He’s in pain?” Tony asked, his voice strained. 

May nodded. “This process… what’s happening, it's painful. Even though he can’t show it, he’s in pain, and I promised I wouldn’t let him hurt.” Her voice broke. “I promised.” 

Tony felt a crushing pain in his chest. His kid was in pain. He’d not let himself think of these parts of what would happen, but Peter had. He’d ensured that he would get what he needed at the end. May had made him promises, and that would have reassured him. 

Bruce returned with another smaller bag and hooked it up to the IV. He watched the flow start and then said, “I’ll be in the lab. Get Friday to tell me if you need anything. I’ll come right back.” 

May thanked him, and Bruce hurried out. Tony understood. Bruce was doing his best to help, doing more than Tony could, but this room was hell. Only the fact that Tony loved Peter so much enabled him to stay. The fact he was watching his son slipping toward the end was like being burned at the stake. Peter was dying, and if Cho couldn’t fix it … if he never woke up …. 

He breathed hard through his nose, fighting to stay in control as the horror of that thought washed over him. He had to wake up. It had to work. Tony couldn’t lose him. 

Friday’s voice jerked Tony from his thoughts. “Boss, Doctor Cho has arrived.” 

Tony ran from the room and to the elevator, fingers tapping his leg as he waited for her to arrive. The doors opened, and the woman he had been praying for stepped out. She looked sleep tousled, her clothes creased, but her eyes were alert and tense. 

“Come with me,” Tony said at once. 

She followed without a word, down to the lab where Bruce was gulping coffee, apparently having given up on tea in favor of something stronger to keep him awake. 

“Helen…” he said with noticeable relief. 

“Fill me in,” she said, setting her bag down on the floor. 

Bruce pulled up a hologram and began to explain the situation. Tony knew it all too well, having spent so much time trying to solve the puzzle. 

Doctor Cho listened carefully and then moved to the microscope to check the blood sample Bruce was examining. 

“How old are these samples?” she asked. 

“I got them this morning when he… declined,” Bruce said, cautious of his words. 

“I need new ones, and I need to see him.” 

“Of course,” Tony said. 

Bruce grabbed a case and said, “Everything you need is in there.” 

She took it, following Tony to Peter’s room. Tony was both eager to see him and dreading it because of what he was going to face in there. 

“May, this is Helen Cho,” he said. 

May turned without moving from the bed and said, “It’s nice to meet you.” Her tone was off, though. It sounded worn and tired and on the edge of life. 

Helen unpacked the kit and drew Peter’s blood into four vials, more than Tony had expected her to need. Then she did her exam, testing his reflexes, checking his blood pressure, which was far too low, and then pinching his fingertips, watching how long it took for them to pink up again. 

She nodded to herself. “Heart failure.” 

“Yes,” May agreed. “Advanced. 

The words speared Tony like an ice-pick to the heart. 

“Then I better get to work,” she said. “I’ll call you if I need you, Tony.” 

Tony nodded and went to the bed, the opposite side to May, picking up Peter’s cold hand. He rubbed it between his own to create warmth but failed. May watched him for a moment and then said, “He could use another blanket.” 

Quickly getting to his feet, Tony fetched a blanket from the cupboard and draped it over Peter, tucking it up to his chin, hiding his thin, pale chest. He didn’t think it was going to help him. He remembered why Peter’s hands were cold in the hospital, and he’d seen the slow pinking of Peter’s fingers. It was his blood flow again. His heart wasn’t able to pump enough of it where it needed to go. 

Peter’s heart, his huge, loving, and brave heart, which had been through so much, was failing now. And they were running out of time.


	31. Chapter 31

Tony was sitting beside Peter on the bed, holding his hand. May had moved, so she was sitting by his head, stroking her fingers through his hair. Tony’s eyes occasionally moved to the heart monitor, which was showing no good news. Even with the oxygen that he was on, his stats weren’t high enough, and his heart had slowed to an unhealthy speed. Each slow beat seemed like a gift. 

Pepper was standing behind him, her hand on his back, thumb stroking the back of his neck. He had no words to tell her how grateful he was for her now. He was drowning, and only her touch and the beep of the monitor kept him fighting to the surface each time he went down. 

May looked at Tony, and he saw the fiery pain in her eyes. “We might have to intubate him soon,” she said. “He’s not getting enough oxygen like this.” 

Tony nodded. “I’ll get Bruce.” 

He rose to his feet, grateful to have something to do, but hating what it meant for Peter. It moved him one step further away, a little closer to the edge. Tony paused mid-step, hearing excited chatter in the hall coming toward him. Bruce and Helen appeared, both looked wired and eager, and Tony’s head felt like it finally broke water again, and he gulped for air. 

“You have something,” he said. 

Helen nodded. “I think we do.” 

May sighed, pressing a kiss to Peter’s temple. 

“What is it?” Pepper asked. 

“We were stupid,” Bruce said breathlessly. “We were trying to remove the mutated cells, but they were what he needed. It was losing them that started this whole thing. If we give him more, he’ll be stronger.” 

“You think giving him more will save him?” May asked. 

Helen nodded. “We think so. I believe the incomplete cells are being created because they’re not able to reproduce and fight at the same time. We need him to be Spider-Man again. That’s where the healing comes from.” 

“Okay,” May said cautiously. “He needs more Spider-Man cells, but how do we get them? The spider is dead. How do we create more?” 

Bruce shifted from foot to foot. “That’s where it gets complicated. The spider was radioactive, right?” 

May nodded. “That’s what Peter says.” 

“Then we use radiation again.” 

May stared at him and then said, “You want to irradiate our son?” 

Bruce ducked his head, but Helen spoke up. “We don’t want to irradiate him, but we want to irradiate bone marrow and then give it back to him.” 

“That will kill the marrow,” May said. 

“No, not with the resurgence of mutated cells there. Peter’s blood is already different from ahuman’s.” 

Tony looked at May, seeing her working through the details, and then her eyes fell on Peter, whose face was pale, eyes closed that didn’t even flicker. 

“Is it the only way?” May asked. 

“Yes,” Helen said. 

“Then do it.” 

“Thank you,” Helen said. “I’ll get the gear to draw the bone marrow.” 

“Wait,” Bruce said, holding up a hand. “You need to know. This comes with risks. This could kill him. It’s never been tested, and we don’t have time to even begin to test it in the lab.” 

“Kill or cure,” Tony whispered. 

Bruce nodded. “Yeah.” 

Tony stared at Peter, at his son who was slipping away, and he knew they had no choice. This could kill him, shortening the time they had with him. Days could become hours. But they had to do it. 

“We have to do it, May,” he said quietly. “It’s the only chance he’s got.” 

May stared at him, seeming to see through the layers of protection he’d spent years creating, walls that only Pepper and Peter had breached. Finally, she nodded. “No choice.” Her voice was stilted. “I know.” She looked up at Bruce and said, “We need to intubate him if we’re going to have enough time.” 

“I’ve got all the stuff,” he said. “I’ll bring it up.” 

Bruce left the room with Helen, and Tony moved his eyes back to Peter. He leaned close to his ear and whispered, “Hang on, Pete, just a little longer. We’re going to fix it.” 

May made a pained sound, and tears crept from Tony’s eyes, falling into Peter’s hair. He rested his head against the pillow beside Peter’s head and closes his eyes, the words becoming a litany in his mind that he willed for Peter to hear. 

Hang on, Pete. Just a little longer. Please, Peter, hang on. 

* * *

“We’re doing the right thing,” May said. “We are.” 

Tony looked at her, seeing how focused she was on Peter. He knew she was speaking more to Peter than she was him. She was reassuring him—and maybe herself. 

He wondered how much Peter heard, how much he understood. The sounds of the monitor were now accompanied by the hiss and pump of the ventilator that made Peter’s chest rise and fall with every artificial breath. 

It was early. The sun was just peeking out over the horizon, casting columns of warm light into the room. It hadn’t been a day since Tony found and failed to wake Peter, and every minute of that time had been a gift. Peter was fading, though, and that terrified him. He’d accused Peter of not fighting before, but he’d been wrong. He saw that now. Peter was fighting. Despite his weak heart and failing organs, he was hanging on. He was fighting harder than Tony ever could. 

The kid truly was a hero, and Tony had never felt so proud. 

“We are,” he answered anyway, wanting Peter to hear it. Though he didn’t want Peter to feel everything he was going through, he hoped Peter heard them, that their words reached him and kept him fighting. That he knew that he wasn’t alone. 

May nodded. “It’s all we’ve got.” 

And that was the truth. If they didn’t do it, Peter would die. The only risk was they might lose him faster. But Tony couldn’t live with himself if they didn’t give him every possible chance to win this fight. He knew that if it failed, he would have to go on, though the thought seemed impossible. He’d promised Peter that he’d be there for May and Pepper. He would just have to find the strength to fight like Peter had. 

He lost himself in the sounds of the room and the sight of Peter’s chest rising and falling and didn’t notice the arrivals until May said, “That’s it?” 

Turning, he saw Helen holding a bag of what looked like blood, but Tony knew it was the marrow they’d withdrawn from Peter. What was in that bag would either heal him or kill him. There was no middle ground. 

It had to work. 

“Yes,” Helen said. “Are you ready?” 

May’s lingered on Peter for a moment, but then she nodded, looking at Helen. “He is.” 

Helen came around the bed beside Tony, removing the tube feeding fluids into Peter and replacing it with the new bag. She hung it and stepped back. “Would you like to do it?” She gestured at the small white clamp on the tube that was holding back the flow. 

May got to her feet, coming to Tony’s side as Helen moved back. Her fingers brushed over the clamp. She squeezed her eyes closed, and her hand started to shake. 

He placed a hand on her arm and said, “It’s the right thing, May.” 

“I know,” she said, “but I can’t be the one to kill him if it fails.” 

“I can,” Helen said, stepping forward. 

Tony held up a hand. “No. We can do it.” He turned May to him and said, “This is on us. We have to do it for him. We’re not going to kill him; his body will do that no matter what happens. But you and me, we can save him. How long have you wanted to do that, May?” 

Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she whispered, “Always.” 

“This is our chance,” Tony said, placing her hand over his, and her fingers gripped him. “Ready?” 

“I’m ready,” she said, her voice stronger now. 

Tony lifted their hands to the clamp, May’s hand over his, and his fingers reached for the clasp. Taking a breath, he said, “Please, Peter, you can do this,” and then opened the clamp. He felt a wave of light-headedness sweep over him as the marrow crept down the tube and into Peter. Then he turned to May, pulling her into his arms. 

May was breathing hard, and he cradled the back of her head. “Now we pray,” he said. 

He didn’t know if May believed in a higher power, he wasn’t even sure that he did, but he had faith in Peter, and that was who he sent his will to, and he whispered, “Please, please do this. Please. I need you.” 

May held him tighter, and sobs began to slip from her. He kept her in his arms, trying to hold back his own sobs, but then one broke free. There was a rasping sound behind him, the monitor beeped frantically. He turned, begging for it to be Peter fighting the tube like he had in the hospital, but that wasn’t it—not this time. 

The sound was Peter seizing, head straining back, and the cords of his neck standing out. His lips were curled back and tinged blue. 

“No,” Tony whispered, then dropped to his knees beside the bed, gripping Peter’s juddering hand and pressing it to his lips. “No, Peter! Please, don’t.” 

He heard voices shouting around him, felt May at his side, but his eyes were on Peter, his hearts thrumming against his ribs. 

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Fear crashed over him. 

Had he just killed his son? 


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last full chapter of the story. All that remains is the post-credits scene, which we promise will make up for all the pain we’ve put Peter and Tony (and you) through. Just suffer a little more because we promise it ends happy. This chapter has made us both shed happy and sad tears combined.

Tony didn’t know what time it was, but the city had quieted down, only the lights burning across the buildings showing life. He was standing on the landing deck, staring out and trying to breathe. Every time he went into Peter’s room, it was like he was holding his breath, only releasing it when he touched the fresh air outside again. To breathe too loud inside might break that fragile balance, pushing Peter and breaking his grip on life. 

Peter hadn’t stopped fighting, but it had been a long time since they’d given him the marrow, and he hadn’t woken up yet.

It wasn’t what they’d expected. It hadn’t cured him, but it hadn’t killed him either. Peter had seized for longer than either Bruce or Helen had ever seen, long past the point it should have killed him, and then driven by desperation, Bruce had injected him with a heavy dose of the drugs he’d used on Tony, and it worked. Peter lived, miraculously, his body had settled on the bed again, and the tiniest hint of color returned to his lips and cheeks. But that had been the only improvement. 

Helen said there was still a battle being waged in his body, the mutated cells fighting the unformed ones, but neither side was winning. There were good signs occasionally. The blood they took from Peter showed more mutated than unformed, but then it would switch around, and they’d lose their tenuous hope again.

He knew he needed to go back soon, May would need a break from her watch to clean up, use the bathroom, breathe. There was always one of them in the room. Pepper came and went, Ned called, and they held the phone to Peter’s ear. Rhodey and Happy visited, and Bruce and Helen came for more blood, to check Peter’s stats, then they would drift away again. But May and Tony, they were the constants. There was always one of Peter’s parents with him. 

He wanted to summon his suit. He wanted to fly, to be somewhere where he didn’t need to think anymore, to go high for the suit to protect him and let him be sent into the same unconsciousness that had taken Peter. But he couldn’t. 

Sleep was no solace, he had to drug himself to get any, and he still dreamed. And it was always the same dream. He was on the ground, trying to catch Peter, but instead of falling into his arms, Peter was out of reach. He couldn’t catch him, couldn’t touch him. He couldn’t even speak in his dream, to tell his son how much he loved him. He hadn’t said it enough. He should have said it every day.

He wanted to say it again now, in case Peter could hear, but he had sworn to himself that next time Peter heard those words, he would be able to look him straight in the eye as he said them. He wanted to see Peter’s face as he heard them, to know that Peter understood and felt the same way.

Footsteps approached, and he turned to see Rhodey coming towards him, his face set with sadness.

“No change,” he said in response to Tony’s searching look. “How are you doing?”

Tony shrugged. “I have no idea.

That wasn’t true. He did know, but there were no words to say it. What he felt was beyond the capability of language to express. 

“You want anything?”

“No.” He frowned. “What time is it?”

“Three. I couldn’t sleep, so I figured I’d come over and check in with you all.”

“Thank you.”

“I did it for myself as much as I did you. Being home, going on with life the way I am, feels strange. Each time the phone rings, I think it’s you.”

“What do you think you’re going to hear?” Tony asked in a dead voice. “Good news or bad?”

Rhodey’s eyes widened. “Good, Tone, always. I believe in good news. I don’t know how he’s doing it, still fighting, Bruce and Helen have told me what’s going on. But I don’t think he’s going to be defeated after fighting this hard this long. He will win.”

“It’s been a month, Rhodey,” he said quietly. 

“Exactly. Neither of us have fought a battle that long in our lives. Even after the crash, my legs, I was through the worst by them. That kid has strength we can only guess at.”

Tony nodded. “He does.”

Rhodey looked out over the city and said, “You ready to come inside.”

Tony took one last deep breath of air, knowing he wouldn’t get another real breath for hours, and then turned, walking to the elevator with Rhodey and getting in. The weight of what they were about to face settled in Tony’s gut. He froze when Friday’s voice cut through the air. “Boss, you need to come to Peter’s room.”

Tony’s heart stopped, mind seizing, but his body worked. He slammed his finger against the button to the close the doors and roared, “Get us down, Friday! Now, dammit!”

The doors closed, and there was a small shift as they lowered, then the doors opened, and Tony sprinted down the hall toward the urgent voices and rapid beat of the heart monitor. He threw himself into the room, shoving past Pepper and Bruce to get to Peter’s side, Peter’s name slipping from him like a desperate plea.

Helen was on the other side bed, May closer to her side. Helen’s hands were busy at Peter’s mouth, doing something to the tube in his throat as Peter choked and gagged. Tony remembered this from the hospital, from the first time he’d seen Peter intubated, and he knew it was good news then. He could only hope it meant it was good news now.

The last of the tube left Peter’s mouth with a cough, and then Helen stepped back, letting May closer to Peter. His eyes were still closed, but he was breathing on his own.

“What happened?” he asked. 

“He was fighting the vent,” May said, life in her voice for the first time in weeks. “He’s breathing on his own.”

Tony closed his eyes, breathing for a moment, real air entering him, flooding his brain with oxygen in a way he hadn’t felt in weeks. 

Someone’s hand touched his back, a small one with careful pressure, and he knew it was Pepper. He leaned against her and whispered her name. A kiss was pressed to his cheek, and she whispered in his ear, “I’m here.”

“We need more blood,” Helen said, drawing Tony’s attention to her. 

Bruce collected the kit they’d left in the room for frequent blood draws and went to Peter’s side. He wrapped an elastic around his upper arm and patted the vein, which bulged and inserted the needle. 

Tony watched the blood fill the vial, so he didn’t immediately see what May did, but her voice tipped him off that it was big.

“Peter, honey?”

Tony’s eyes snapped to Peter’s face, and he saw his brow was scrunched. 

“Peter!”

May bent over him, holding his face in her hands. “Can you hear me?” she asked. 

There was the smallest twitch, a slight shift to Peter’s chin. It looked like he was trying to nod. Relief flooded Tony.

“Oh god,” May whispered, falling back against Bruce, who steadied her. 

Tony took her place, bending over Peter and holding his face. His eyes were locked on Peter, and his voice was urgent as he said, “Pete, open your eyes.”

He could see the effort it took, and he had never been more proud of his son, but when Peter’s eyes flickered open, the pride was washed away by sheer joy. Tears fell from his eyes onto Peter’s face, and his breaths came in rasps.

“Hey,” Peter whispered, his voice a mere breath. 

Tony gave a laugh that combined with a sob and pressed his forehead to Peter’s. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

The reply was a little more audible, and the confusion was obvious. “Uh… you’re welcome.”

Tony laughed again, lifting his head and staring at Peter as he said, “I love you. I love you so much.”

Peter’s lips tugged into a weak smile, but his eyes shone with the happiness Tony had hoped for, the happiness that mimicked his own when he’d heard it. “I love you, too.” 

Tony heard a choked sob and forced himself to release Peter, to give May the space she needed. She half fell onto the bed, pressing kisses to Peter’s face. His hands rose slightly as if he wanted to embrace her, but too weak, they dropped back to the bed again. 

Tony stepped back and then arms wrapped around him from behind, and Pepper rested her chin on his shoulder. “Breathe, Tony,” she said. 

But Tony didn’t need the reminder. He was breathing. He drew in deep and steady breaths that fed his body and mind with what he’d lacked for so long. 

He lifted a hand, placing hers against his chest, right over his heart, patting it. He could feel it pounding in his chest, and its pace seemed to match the beeps of Peter’s heart monitor. 

Tony closed his eyes and listened to the sound, not hearing the other voices in the room. May’s fervent expressions of love, Rhodey’s relieved laugh, Pepper murmuring her love in his ear. 

He only heard Peter’s heartbeat recorded on the monitor and the thud of his own. They were in perfect rhythm together, connected in the life Tony had prayed for. 

He sat on the end on the bed, placing a hand on Peter’s ankle, grounding himself in the moment. Peter’s voice grabbed his attention, though. It was loud and excited.

“What’s that?”

May pulled back. “What’s wrong? No, lie down.”

Peter was struggling to sit up, his eyes staring down at where Tony’s hand rested. Tony was frozen. It couldn’t mean what he thought, what he wished it did. It would be too good to be true. 

“What’s the matter?” May asked, getting behind Peter to hold him up as his arms were juddering with the effort of holding himself even a few inches from the bed. 

Peter gave a shocked laugh, tears springing to his eyes. “I can feel that.”

Tony looked from his face to his ankle, where hand rested, and he tightened his fingers. “You feel that?”

Peter nodded with another laugh that seemed to drain the color from his face with the effort. “Yeah. Look!”

His eyes moved past his ankle to his toes, and all other eyes followed. There was movement, it was small, just a flicker, but the blanket was moving. Tony yanked back the blanket to expose Peter’s feet in their white socks. His toes were moving. 

“You can see that, right?” Peter asked. 

“Yeah,” Tony said, his voice sounding distant to his own ears. “I can see. It’s really moving.”

Peter sagged back against May, his energy drained and said, “How did this happen? What did you do?”

“That’s a long story, kid,” Tony said, covering Peter’s feet again and returning his hand to Peter’s ankle, giving it a soft squeeze. “But most of it was you. This fight, this win, is all you. You fought.”

Peter’s lips tugged into a smile. “I guess I did.”

“You did,” May said, cradling his head. “You fought this, and you won it.”

Tony’s mind couldn’t keep up with what’s happening around him, the miracle he was seeing. Peter could feel his legs, he could move his toes, and that was incredible. But what made Tony feel like he was flying was the sound of his voice, the solid feel of him under his hand. 

Peter was alive. 

xXx

Peter fixed pleading eyes on Tony and said, “Just a small one. Like a slice?”

Tony shook his head and nudged the bowl on the lap tray towards him. “Broth.”

“Half a slice?” 

“Broth.”

Peter sighed and picked up his spoon. It was his first meal since waking, and he had to wait days until he could sit upright long enough to eat it, being fed through an IV in the meantime. He thought that after he’d been through, he deserved pizza.

“You know I nearly died, right?” he said, slurping the broth. “I earned pizza.”

Tony winced, making Peter feel guilty, but Tony quickly replaced it with a smile, the elated smile that he’d been wearing since Peter woke up. Each time Peter woke since coming back, Tony was there, and every time, he would give Peter a bright smile, ready to help Peter in any way that he needed. 

“As soon as we can be sure you can eat without yakking it all up again, I’ll get you pizza. In the meantime, eat the soup May made.”

Peter lowered his spoon, looking concerned. “May made this?”

If they didn’t want him to puke, they were going about it the wrong way.

Tony grinned and shook his head. “No, Pepper, but if you don’t eat it, I’ll have May make your next meal.”

Peter smiled and spooned up a little soup and sipped it. It was tasty, though it was kind of bland, but he figured he had to be careful about what he put in his stomach after five weeks without eating. 

“It’s great,” he said. 

Tony laughed. “Friday, tell Pepper that Peter thinks she’s a culinary genius.”

There was a pause, and Friday’s voice replied, “She says she knows, and Peter is welcome.”

Peter laughed and took another sip of soup. 

Tony’s hand settled on his leg, and Peter wriggled his toes in reply. He wondered if Tony knew what it meant to him, to feel his touch. It was more than just the fact that he could feel; it was that it was Tony’s hand that had given him the greatest news. Not only had he lived and was going to keep living, but he could feel his whole body again.

His muscles were still weak, but Doctor Banner and Doctor Cho said it wouldn’t take long for him to be back to full strength—full Spider-Man strength. The enhanced bone marrow they’d given him had fought the incomplete and unhealthy cells, battered them back until there were none, and now his cells were all mutated again. Though mutated felt like the wrong word. He thought his real cells were what they were, that he was always supposed to be Spider-Man. He had accepted that he wasn’t ever going to be Spider-Man again, made peace with it and moved on, but having it back—or at least knowing that he would—meant more than words could say.

Peter ate a little more soup, then pushed his tray away. His stomach had definitely shrunk, and he felt overly full, but the simple act of eating had been great. 

“What do you want to do now?” Tony asked. 

Peter had a hundred answers to that question, most too stupid to voice as he was in no state to go in the suit. He could barely stand. That would all come in time, though. He just had to be patient. 

“Can we watch a movie?” he asked. 

“Absolutely. You want to come into the living room? We can get May and Pepper in on it, too.”

“Definitely.”

He pushed back the blankets and slowly moved his legs around to the edge of the bed, the weak muscles aching but feeling amazing all the same. 

“You want the chair?” Tony asked. “Or a piggyback?”

Peter laughed. “Piggyback.”

Tony grinned and said, “Maybe next time. I’m not sure you’d be able to hang on.” 

Instead, he lifted Peter into his arms and held him against his chest. Peter rested his head on his shoulder. He once feared this, needing to be carried around, and he’d struggled the first time he’d had to ask Tony for help, but now it meant nothing but good. It was his dad carrying him, and it wasn’t going to be for long. Soon he’d be standing beside him without braces again, running beside him, back in the gym sparring the way they had the day everything changed. 

“Jeez, kid, I think you had too much broth,” Tony teased, hefting him a little higher. “You weigh a ton. I might drop you.”

Peter grinned. He knew he weighed next to nothing, he could see his stick-thin arms and skinny legs under his sweats. This was just Tony getting back to normal. 

“You won’t drop me,” he said. 

“I’m not sure about that, Pete.”

Peter shrugged. “Okay, but if you do, you’ll catch me, too.”

Tony stopped and held him closer for a moment, his cheek against Peter’s hair, and then he straightened up and said, “Always, kid,” and it was more than a reassurance. It was a promise, 

If Peter ever fell again, Tony would be there to catch him.


	33. After Credits Scene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are! We've made it to the end and what a journey it's been. We both adore this ending, and we hope you like it too. Enough from us, get to reading!

“Harri, slow down!” 

Harrison heard his mother calling behind him, and he glanced back over his shoulder to see her clutching her purse to her side as she ran after him. 

He laughed and pushed himself harder. He was too excited to slow down, and now that he could run again, he wasn’t stopping until he had to. 

“Harri!” 

“We’re going to be late,” he called back to her. 

“We’re really not,” she huffed. 

Harrison skidded to a halt when he reached the tower where Mr. Stark had told them to meet him, and he panted for breath. He was still not as fast as Tucker, the fastest kid in his class, but he was faster than his mom, and that was what had him excited. 

She came to a puffing stop beside him and said, “Did Mr. Stark put rocket thrusters on your braces with your last upgrade?” 

“Nope. I’m just that good.” 

She tousled his hair and said, “I guess you are.” She checked her watch. “Well, we made it on time.” She looked anxiously at the doors. “He did say to meet him outside, didn’t he?” 

“Yep, but he’s a busy guy, inventing stuff and changing lives, so he might be late.” 

Harrison didn’t mind. He looked at the towering buildings around him, all glass and bustling people. He never came to this part of town. And the exciting stuff wasn’t stopping there. He was finally going to be filmed in his braces for Mr. Stark’s people so they could start the campaign to help other kids walk. Mr. Stark said he was going to be filmed in his own gym. Harrison was actually going to see where Mr. Stark and Peter lived. He couldn’t wait. 

“Mr. Stark,” his mom said with relief. 

“I told you to call me Tony,” a smooth voice replied. 

Harrison turned to beam at him and then stopped as he saw something in the corner of his eye. 

“Whoa…” he whispered, and then his voice rose. “Mom! Mom! Look!” 

He was pointing at the red and blue figure that was swinging towards them from a white web so high Harrison had to crick his neck to see. 

Spider-Man shot out another web until he was right over Harrison’s head, and then he zoomed down, landing on the balls of his feet right in front of him. 

“Spider-Man,” he whispered. 

“Spider-Man, this is Harrison,” Tony said. 

Spider-Man placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Harrison. I’ve heard a lot about you. You’re quite the hero, according to my friends.” 

Harrison was too excited at first to speak. Seeing his hero, feeling his hand on his shoulder, he had to struggle to form words. “I … uh …” And then something teased the back of his mind. “Wait! Say that again.” 

Spider-Man bent close and whispered in his ear, “Hey, Harri.” 

Harrison gasped. He knew that voice, but it couldn’t be. 

“Peter,” he breathed. 

Spider-Man straightened up and pressed a finger over his lips. 

“Are you really, though?” Harrison asked, heart thrumming and smile so wide it was hurting. 

Spider-Man nodded. 

“Oh, wow,” Harrison breathed. 

“Okay, kid, come on in,” Mr. Stark said. “Spider-Man’s got things to do, and you and I need to have a talk about keeping secrets.” 

Spider-Man took a step back, raising his hand to shoot out a web, but Harrison grabbed his other hand and said. “I won’t tell anyone, I swear.” 

Spider-Man leaned close again and said, “I know you won’t. And I was right about what I said in the hospital. You are amazing and brave. You helped me when I was scared.” 

“You were really scared?” Harrison asked disbelievingly. “Really?” 

“Really,” Spider-Man said, “and you helped me.” 

Harrison beamed. 

Spider-Man patted his hair, then shot out his web and swung away. Mr. Stark’s hand fell on his shoulder. “Come on, kid, it’s time to make you a star.” 

Harrison watched Spider-Man swinging away, moving until he became a dot, and then he followed his mother and Mr. Stark through the glass doors. 

He’d just met Spider-Man, the real Spider-Man who was actually his friend Peter, and he’d helped him. He remembered that night when Peter had the twitches and how he’d looked scared some days, and he felt goosebumps creep up his arms. 

This was the coolest thing that had ever happened to him, and he couldn’t tell a soul the whole story. But all his friends were going to know the rest. 

He couldn’t wait to tell them he’d met Spider-Man. They thought his braces were cool, but this was so much better. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. It's been amazing to share this story with you all. Did you choke up too reading this final scene? I know we did. I'll be passing out tissues in comments if anyone needs. Thank you again, Jade and Snarks

**Author's Note:**

> Find snarky on tumblr [here](https://snarky-drabbles.tumblr.com/)  
> Find Jade on tumblr [here](https://clowns-or-midgets-fic.tumblr.com/)


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